The Waltz Continues
by Ms.MaraJade
Summary: Continuation to my story, “The Dance Begins.” Allura and Keith pursue their love in secret while forces around them start to converge. Rated T to be safe for a few minor curses.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Notes_: I cannot apologize enough for this delay. This part of the story was a little bit harder for me to conjure, but as always I hope I continue to do justice to the show and characters. I will try to update again soon, but with the impending birth of my first child early in 2007, I doubt a new chapter will be posted right away. I thank everyone for their reviews, encouragement, and patience. I have a lot more I'd like to do in this story, and as long as I get some writing time during the baby's naps, I should be able to post again in a couple months.

As always, no flames please. However, I am grateful for constructive criticism that will help to develop my skills further as a writer.

_Disclaimer:_ I own nothing. I make no money. I only write about what I enjoy.

_Summary_: Continuation to my story, "The Dance Begins." Allura and Keith pursue their love in secret while forces around them start to converge. Rated T to be safe for a couple minor curses.

The Waltz Continues

Chapter 1 – Voices and Visions

The gentle hum of machinery was like the voice of an old friend. It echoed of excitement and a past that was shrouded in mystery. It was a language that was ancient. The deeper sounds were a baritone voice narrating a suspenseful tale. The higher pitched resonance that interspersed the low sounds was an angel's voice, singing in accompaniment to the story being told.

Keith closed his eyes and listened to the sounds more carefully. He had been trying to figure out the tale for months now. Hunk and Pidge, of course, would think he had taken one too many hits to the head. They would logically tell him that the noises were merely servos and motors. It was the hydraulics and fluids running through the mechanical beast of his Black Lion. Still, Keith liked the idea of trying to understand the magic within his Lion. The history of Voltron and its respective Lions was still shrouded in much mystery.

Instinctively, Keith felt his hands wrap around the controls. The narrative opera continued around him. It was the tranquility he enjoyed before the chaos of maneuvers and battles. Even in a practice exercise, his adrenaline rushed with the excitement.

He made the intention to pull back on the handle and perform the maneuver that would send the Black Lion into a leap of faith from the pillar on which it stood and launch him into the air.

_You would die for her._

Keith's eyes slammed open, his ritual for taking off forgotten. His hands fell from the controls, and his breath got caught in his throat. It was the first time he ever made any sense of the sounds in the cockpit of the Lion. He looked around, trying to see if there was any ghost of any former pilot.

The humdrum of the engines returned. The usual noises filled the tiny space again.

His heart thudded. He knew what he heard. For so many months of only imagining, this time words truly materialized. They were in a voice he envisioned as belonging to a strong leader. It was definitely male and in an accent that was unlike any he had ever heard. He could only compare the voice to an accented brogue combined with the sharpness of a sophisticated race.

"Hey, daydreamer!" Lance shouted through the comm. "You plan to get off the ground anytime this week?"

Keith gritted his teeth in frustration. He suddenly wanted to cancel the exercise and sit in the Lion, with no other intent but to listen. His eyes focused on the Red Lion in his viewport. He needed an excuse. Lance would be the last person to believe him if he said he heard a ghostly voice. "I guess having a few moments for one last rehearsal of this exercise in my mind is too much to ask?"

"We've done this maneuver a number of times before, Keith," Lance replied as he tapped on the communications control creating the familiar click that changed his communications from public to private interface.

Keith could only imagine what the second-in-command planned to tease him about this time. Lance was one of the few people he actually allowed to jab at him continually for any reason. "Either you've developed a case of epilepsy, Keith, or you were daydreaming about the princess wearing that blue dress a couple weeks ago."

With a sigh, Keith closed his eyes and forced himself some extra patience. "I thought I heard something wrong with the engines. I ran a quick diagnostic. It turns out it was nothing."

"Of course, all business. Why didn't you just say that?"

"I didn't want Hunk and Pidge to go into a panic. They just spent the last week checking over the Lions."

"You sure you're not thinking about a certain princess in a blue dress?"

Keith grumbled in frustration. "Can't you just be grateful that we managed to get Nanny to back off? It won't be long before she sends another suitor."

Lance's anger flashed in his words. "Yeah, and we'll just do the same thing. Only, if the next guy isn't as respectful as Dirin was, we use force."

"Can we save this for later? The others are waiting for us," Keith finally stated. They wasted enough time in this conversation he had with Lance more than once. He wanted to get the practice session done and make sure they were able to keep their skills honed. With weeks between Doom's forces attacking, Keith had started to fear that the Drule were planning something. He had no idea what, but he couldn't help feeling that when it came, it would be vicious.

Lance clicked the communicator back to a public conversation. "We're waiting for you. Get up here and stop stalling."

Keith pulled the control that got the Black Lion flying into the air. He gripped the controls tight and tried not to think about the voice that spoke earlier. He waited for so long to hear what he knew was the sixth spirit of Voltron. He always thought, though, that it would manifest after they were joined together. He never imagined it could interact without the other Lions interfaced.

_She would die for you, too_.

Allura kept the Blue Lion floating in position as Lance advised while he contacted Keith privately. She was wondering why it was taking Keith so long to catch up with them. Usually, he was the first one in the air, and it was one of the others who lagged behind. She watched through the cockpit viewport, trying to remain relaxed. Piloting was a skill she had gradually improved upon. Her techniques were still a bit coarse compared to the others. After so many months of flying, she now understood the tactics and when it was appropriate to use the techniques they did.

Often in battle, she had to fight her nerves. Lance once explained the impulsivity of the body's reaction to adrenalin. She had tried to calm that instinct many times, but it was just something that took time. The exercises they practiced were designed to help with fear and adrenalin control. The fighting instinct continued to come more naturally to the others. Allura knew she wasn't against killing if it was necessary, but she was not an aggressor. She attacked as a means to keep Arus safe.

Allura glanced her eyes around the cockpit of the Blue Lion, bringing her focus back to the moment. The machinery around her seemed unusually noisy, and she hoped there was nothing wrong with her Lion. Hunk and Pidge had been maintaining the Lions regularly. She couldn't imagine that there would be any mechanical problems. So far, everything in the Blue Lion was working in superb condition.

She shrugged off the idea of mechanical failure, thinking that maybe she was just becoming overly sensitive. Trying to maintain a relationship that was forbidden was probably causing stress she didn't even realize she was carrying.

_Guard this love._

Allura felt herself jump in bewilderment. She quickly spun, looking within the interior of the cockpit. The voice was ancient Arusian. She could tell that much by the accent. It was not commonly spoken, but some of the elderly people of her planet still spoke with it, usually when telling a story about the past.

"Who's there?" the princess asked, fearing someone stowed away on her Lion.

The only answer she received in return was the continual humming of the mechanics.

"Hey, Princess, look sharp!" Lance suddenly cut in. The Red Lion flew over her, close enough to scrape its claws into the back of her Blue Lion's head.

"Sorry," she replied, shaking the voice out of her mind. She couldn't afford to be daydreaming during an exercise. She needed to learn all she could so she could be ready in their next battle.

Taking a deep breath and grasping the controls, she followed the others into formation.

--- --- --- --- ---

Lotor paced angrily back and forth. His long, white hair trailed behind him, bringing an increasing menace to his stature. His yellow eyes were shadowed in some dark emotion, anger at the surface. One fist ground into the palm of his other hand. His dull, heavy footsteps filled the hall as he turned and marched again in the other direction.

He ignored the concubines who smiled at him as they strode past. He had enjoyed their company many times before, but now, he just wanted to brood. As prince of Planet Doom, he had no right being condemned to the castle. His father, King Zarkon, had made no wishes to attack Arus. Lotor asked numerous times for permission to lead a raid, if nothing else just to keep face and let the Arusian people know that Doom wasn't cowering in fear.

His father explained that they needed to work on replenishing resources and ships. He guaranteed Lotor that when the time was right, Doom forces would attack Arus once again. However, Zarkon was also extremely displeased with Lotor's inability to provide a victory over the last few months. He wanted a solid strategy in place and a certainty from whatever robeast Hagar would conjure next. The king was willing to postpone an attack, preferring to make sure an adequate strategy was in place first.

Frustrated with nothing constructive to do, Lotor stopped pacing in the hall before Hagar's chamber. He was going to personally see why the witch was taking so long to develop a satisfactory robeast.

Throwing caution aside, Lotor pushed open the doors and stormed forward. To his surprise, he found the chamber eerily silent. Black shrouds hid the bed in a corner of the room. Shelves were lined with jars of powders, herbs, body parts, and items the witch deemed worthy of her ancient magic.

Darkness filled the room, with the exception of three lit candles placed on the black, stone altar. The altar sat in the center of the chamber. It was the focal point for her private rituals. The altar was lined with dark streaks that Lotor could only imagine were from sacrifices to her underworld gods. He briefly wondered how many of those sacrifices were willing. His yellow eyes traced the tendril of gray smoke rising from an incense stick that was burning in the center of the altar.

The sacrificial table contained five different bowls, each with a different herb or powder. A concoction of musk and explosives wafted through the room. The musk he assumed was from the incense burning. The explosive powder he could only assume was residue from Hagar's latest experiments on robeast technology.

His eyes shifted from the smoke to the brown-robed creature that stood behind the altar. Her glowing blue eyes were closed. Her dark, weathered skin was barely visible beneath the hooded cloak she wore. A voice that was normally gravelly was mumbling softly in languages long dead. Hagar's crooked, wrinkled fingers hovered inches above the altar and her long nails arched into claws.

With grotesque and amused curiosity, Lotor watched the helpless Fang-Spider pinned to the counter. The insect was approximately the size of Lotor's two fists, and its screeching cries suddenly filled the chamber. The prince silently admired Hagar's handiwork as her fingertips delved in swiftly and pulled out the still-beating heart of the spider. The insect suddenly twitched in throes of agony, legs moving until the last neural pulse reached the ends of the exoskeleton. Then, the spider fell still and silent.

Taking a breath, Lotor found himself invigorated with the power of death. He had the desire to find a useless prisoner in the deep dungeons and inflict torment, ultimately taking the life with his bare hands. He sometimes wondered how long a humanoid would survive without its heart, and now he wanted to find out.

"Seductive, is it not, my prince?" Hagar rasped as she placed the heart into one of her jars. The tiny heart continued to beat, despite its lack of blood.

"How does it survive?" he wondered out-loud.

"The incantation," she smiled. "You mock the ancients, but their secrets are powerful indeed."

Lotor stepped closer to the altar and pondered the spider. "What do you do with the carcass?"

Hagar's blue cat suddenly jumped onto the altar. It's tiny tongue reached into the hole in the body and began pulling out the entrails for its meal.

"Forget I asked," the prince grumbled.

"You didn't come here to watch the sacrifice of a Fang-Spider," Hagar explained. "You're angry and you blame me for not being able to attack Arus."

"Damn you, Witch," Lotor growled. "I hate it when you do that."

Her muffled cackle echoed in the chamber. "Patience, my lord."

The prince stepped forward, his fists clenching. "Do you realize that I haven't laid an attack on Arus in nearly a month now?"

"I am working on a way to bring forth all that you desire."

"I grow tired of your empty promises, Hagar."

"My latest robeast, Your Highness, must be devoid of all flaws, and it will bring the greatest defeat on Voltron."

"Watch your guarantees, Witch!" he accused as he forced himself not to slam his fists on the altar with the hungry cat and the dead Fang-Spider. "I cannot accept another defeat."

"And every failure was a lesson learned," she replied.

"I'm not here to discuss philosophy!" he shouted.

"Do you want your dear princess?" Hagar asked, her voice betraying a slight touch of concern.

"What are you talking about?"

"As soon as I am certain without any doubt that this robeast will do the bidding I program, you will have not only your princess, but the vengeance you have dreamed about."

"How do you know this?" Lotor asked, careful to not get hopeful again.

"I had a vision, My Prince," Hagar explained gently. "I've seen the princess on her knees before you, tears upon her face. You were in the midst of destroying her world and everything she holds dear within it."

The prince smiled suddenly. "Will it be the end of Voltron?"

"In that same vision, the robot was on its knees, the soul within it fading."

Lotor accepted the prediction happily. "I will leave you to your work then, Hagar. Contact me the instant you are certain this robeast is complete and able to do all that you have envisioned."

The witch bowed her head formally. "With absolute certainty, My Prince."


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer:_ I own nothing. I make no money. I only write about what I enjoy.

The Waltz Continues

Chapter 2 – Ghosts

The air was warm and sunny as the clouds lazily drifted past. The tactics the Voltron Force worked on this morning went smoother than any of them expected. It felt like they had a guiding hand. The sixth sense of Voltron was stronger than usual.

Allura looked up from her papers and closed her eyes, still wondering about the mysterious voice. Part of her was certain it was the spirit of Voltron. Why it chose then to manifest she had no idea. She could have sworn it asked her to guard her feelings, and she could only imagine it was asking so because of her growing relationship with Keith.

She opened her eyes and glanced around the courtyard, trying not to think about the voice any more. Perhaps, it was merely a figment of her imagination, a voice she was longing to hear that wasn't actually there.

Her sapphire eyes studied the courtyard around her. It was still a barren place, but they had been filling it with flowers and plants. The dull brown of the dirt was slowly changing to green and other colors. She wanted to make the courtyard a safe haven for the children to come visit. She recruited the men of the Voltron Force to help her in her designs. Hunk and Pidge had even drafted a swing-set they could build. They were currently in the process of finding the necessary materials to make the pieces safe and sturdy.

Keith and Lance worked on bringing plants into the courtyard. They found a variety that complemented and contrasted. Some of the plants took to the grounds without difficulty. Others needed all the help Allura could afford to keep them alive. The few that died had been declared uninhabitable for the type of soil in the courtyard.

Allura wondered what happened suddenly to the group of men. They had been gone for quite some time seeking out materials for the swing-set. She pushed aside the rations checklist they were preparing for the trip to the villages later in the week. She stood from the wooden bench, and the sleeve of her pink jumpsuit got caught on a piece of splintered wood. She sat back down with a sigh and worked the material free. She decided she would find something to sand the old wood and make it smooth again.

Finally getting the material free, she saw a leaf cut in the shape of a heart on the bench near her. She picked it up, noting that the design was not natural, but had been torn that way. Her heart leapt at the thought. It was the secret code she and Keith had arranged.. A heart-shaped object instructed, "Tonight, the cavern, after midnight." A teardrop-shaped object meant, "Too dangerous, we must not meet." And, a diamond-shaped object stated, "Before dawn in the cavern."

The system had been successful for nearly a month. The objects were subtle and had been left at odd moments such as this. She remembered seeing a piece of paper a couple times. Sometimes she would find a flower petal left under her door. A few times, she saw pieces of material folded into the shapes. Once, Keith was even so bold at dinner to break off and eat pieces of a roll until the roll on his plate was left in the shape of a diamond.

In experimenting with their secret meetings, they agreed that their safest times to meet were either morning before dawn or shortly after midnight. They never shared more than a few minutes at a time. It was usually long enough to have a private conversation that concerned only them. Or it was long enough to silently enjoy each other where no words were needed.

Allura realized that Keith had been sitting on the bench earlier, before all the men decided to go on a materials hunt. She had been so engrossed in the inventories and trying to keep from letting the others see her joy with Keith nearby, that she never even saw him tear pieces off the leaf before he walked away.

She smiled, knowing that it was safe to allow her emotions to be free without anyone around. Even if Nanny or Coran dared to show themselves now, she could get away with telling them she was pleased with the progress of the courtyard. Allura had found quiet moments like this were perfect for releasing the emotions she was not supposed to know. As long as there was something else to reflect her happiness onto, she knew she was safe.

"Hey Princess, look what we found!"

Lance's voice startled her, and she began picking at the leaf as though she was the one who had made the design.

Allura looked up to see Lance carrying an ornamental box. It was the length of his arm span but the width of two books laid side-by-side.

Hunk and Pidge followed behind him, carrying long pipes and wooden pylons.

Keith remained toward the back of the group, helping Hunk and Pidge carry the parts they were planning to use for the swing-set.

The princess stepped toward Lance, recognizing the box instantly. Lance set it on the ground, and Allura knelt before it. She touched a finger gently to the lion-headed dragon engraved in the now-moldy wood. The metal hinges had grown rusted. She ran her fingers over the series of pictures that made the combination for the lock.

"What is it?" Lance asked.

The case made a clicking sound. Allura lifted the top. "My father's hunting bow."

All four men had gathered around the case to see the longbow that once belonged to King Alfor. The deep, purple velvet lining of the case was untouched by the mold or the rust on the metal. Gently, Allura reached in the case and pulled the bow free. She remembered vividly the designs of the dragon tails carved into the wood. One dragon twisted down from the top. The other twisted up from the bottom. Each scale was engraved by hand. The eyes of one dragon were gemstones of a sapphire color. The other set of eyes were a deep ruby.

"He named it _Fire and Ice_," Allura explained quietly. "One dragon represents passion and fire. The other represents serenity and calm." She tested the elasticity of the leather cord, surprised that it was still in fine condition.

She took one of the arrows from the quiver in the box. Nocking it to the bow, she stood and fired it at an invisible mark on one of the far walls of the courtyard.

It bounced harmlessly against the metal and fell to the ground.

"It's been nearly ten years since I've seen this," she said in awe. "We used to enjoy target practice together."

Pidge and Hunk assembled a makeshift target. They stuffed some old rags together and tied it with some string they found. Then, they set it up on a tripod of wood.

"Give it a real go, Princess," Hunk offered, enthusiastically pointing to the target.

Allura took another arrow to the bow. It had been years since her father stood beside her, teaching her how to use the weapon. She hoped she remembered the techniques. Her body stood perpendicular from the target. Only her head turned to the bullseye. She raised the bow to be parallel with her body. Taking a calm breath as her father always taught, she released the arrow.

It landed further from the center than she used to be capable of doing, but considering it had been over ten years since she last shared this experience with her father, she couldn't complain.

"Nice shot!" Pidge smiled.

Allura lowered the bow, suddenly missing her father. It was their quiet time to bond as a father and daughter. It was where she could talk about anything without ridicule or contempt. It was usually where she found she could complain about Nanny without any repercussions.

"There's plenty more arrows, Princess," Hunk offered as he pulled the quiver from the case. "Give yourself some old-fashioned target practice."

Allura laughed quietly. They all meant well to just let her enjoy the simple things. She really could use the time to reminiscence about her father. She had too many complaints about Nanny lately, and she missed his company.

"Thank you, all of you," she smiled.

--- --- --- --- ---

Coran clasped his hands behind his back and quietly watched Allura in the courtyard below. Her arrow had landed close to the center of the target, but she was too far out of practice. Alfor had done well to teach her how to use the ancient weapon. However, too many years had passed since she took the time to work on it, and her lack of training showed.

"Despicable," Nanny complained as she caught up to Coran. Her eyes looked out the large window for bare moments, but it was long enough to catch Allura in activities the servant deemed useless. "Her father should never have allowed her to touch such things."

"King Alfor didn't believe in segregating activities from Allura because of her gender," Coran defended gently. "She wouldn't have nearly the courage she does if His Majesty kept her boxed away, doing needlepoint."

The servant straightened her white apron over her blue skirt, continuing in her grumbling. She was never thrilled by the former king's allowances of his daughter's activities. She rarely agreed with Alfor but always kept her tongue in check so as not to be dismissed from her duties. "Allura must stop her childhood fantasies of playing hero. Her place now is a leader, and she must have a worthy husband before she can become queen."

"If you are still trying to convince Dirin to reconsider, you will waste your time. The matter was closed weeks ago," the advisor explained. He closed his eyes as Allura's last arrow completely missed the target. "He was generous enough to forge an alliance that is beneficial to both Fedmar and Arus. Thanks to his graciousness, the princess shall not forced against her will or her wishes into an unhappy marriage."

"Her wishes shouldn't be part of the equation," Nanny argued. "She is a princess. An arranged marriage should not be out of the question. If that's what it takes for her to become queen, then she needs to accept her responsibility." The servant paused before finishing, "It's her will that gets her into trouble, and it's her will that I intend to soften until she sees her true place."

Coran spun, biting down his anger. "Her will is the very strand that keeps Zarkon's forces from taking this planet from beneath us. You will not do any such thing. When her time comes, she will marry. Until then, I suggest you leave the galaxy's princes to their own business on their own planets and let our princess do her job on our planet."

Nanny was momentarily taken aback, but she recovered quickly. "You're as bad as King Alfor. He was always protecting her like this. It's why she has no interest in the politics of a monarchy and would rather be recklessly damaging herself in what I fear will become her metal coffin."

The advisor's eyes closed again and he lowered his head. His hands returned to his back. There were days he wanted to strangle Nanny with his bare hands. He was always so careful to never let Allura see their arguments, but the servant could just be so unforgiving with her words. "Let her enjoy this afternoon with her father's memories. No harm is being done."

"Fine," Nanny said, taking an angry breath. "But, you will discipline her this time." Then, she spun on her heel and stormed down the hallway.

When the servant was gone, Alfor's voice spoke gently. _Nanny must not know about Allura and Keith, at least not yet. She will destroy them._

"How much longer must I keep playing this game, Your Majesty?" Coran opened his eyes to watch Allura nock another arrow to the bow.

The disembodied voice replied, _When the time is right, Nanny will have it revealed to her. By that point, she will be unable to interfere._

Coran watched the arrow land to the far left of the center ring. He briefly wondered if Alfor was actually speaking out loud or if the conversations manifested in his head. Either way, without actually seeing his former majesty, Coran had no choice but to address his next question to empty air. "You are accepting of this relationship then?"

_I have been hoping for it_, the ethereal voice admitted. _She will be happy. She won't be mistreated._

"Why can I not reveal that I know this, at least not to Allura?" Coran asked, trying to understand.

_This relationship must develop on its own. Any interference will diminish their devotion._

Coran sighed deeply. He had not said anything to Keith since the night of Dirin's visit. The conversation was done only to test the commander's response. The king had been impressed with Keith's conduct at that moment and for the entire evening. Since then, Keith had been proving himself a loyal guardian and a devoted suitor.

_Relax, old friend_, the king said, a smile in his voice, _Allura has finally taken an interest in her future._

"You mean your potential grandchildren," Coran laughed quickly.

_Only when Allura is ready,_ Alfor agreed._ Perhaps it is selfish, but I hope my spirit can suspend the afterlife long enough so I witness her children._

"I believe you will find a way, Your Highness," Coran smiled.

_Do not reveal that you know anything, Coran. They don't keep it secret out of spite. They are protecting themselves from Lotor as well._

"I understand," the advisor sighed. "Allura must have at least one thing in her life that makes her happy."

_Thank you._

Allura put the bow back into the case, a sense of peace obvious in her movements. Coran suddenly felt more relaxed himself. He sensed that Alfor had returned to whatever secret alcove he inhabits after their conversations. He watched Hunk, Pidge, and Lance surround the princess with genuine encouragement. He saw the commander sitting on the wooden bench that a while ago Allura had been inhabiting. Keith had taken on the task of reviewing the documents Allura was studying before she used the bow. However, it was his heart that was entirely entranced with the princess. He was adoring her without even having to look at her.

Turning from the window, Coran slowly moved through the castle. Alfor had provided the directives he was to follow, and he would abide by the former king's words. It was a bittersweet game, he mused, but he had always trusted the king when he was alive. He had no reason to doubt him in his death. He would continue to keep what he knew about Keith and Allura's growing relationship to himself. He hoped one day they would come to him of their own choice, seeking his advice and maybe even a blessing.


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer:_ I own nothing. I make no money. I only write about what I enjoy.

The Waltz Continues

Chapter 3 – Secret Meetings

Keith slowly twirled the fragrant orchid between his fingers. The tips of the lavender petals blurred with the yellow center. The sweet aroma filled his senses with a combination of vanilla and peaches. He had loved these flowers since he arrived on Arus. Allura told him they were called Butterfly Lillies. The flowers attracted butterflies with their fragrance, and they looked like butterfly wings when the flowers were closed.

With Lance's help, he planted a number of them in the courtyard. He hoped Allura's vision of a playground for Arus' children would come true. No child should have to grow up on a world where it was unsafe to play outside. He wanted to see the children of Arus running through the playground they were creating, and he hoped there would be butterflies that scattered while the children played.

"I'm here," Allura whispered, breaking his thoughts.

Keith turned to the princess. The torch on the wall of the cavern didn't provide a lot of light, but it gave what was needed. Beside her was one of the larger pieces of broken stone they would sometimes sit upon. Scattered on the floor was the pile of rocks that she had thrown numerous times in her anger. The chips in the wall showed just how often she would hit her mark. The commander's eyes sometimes glanced to the far walls where symbols from a long-forgotten language were etched into them. He had memorized every design in his long hours of sitting in the cavern in silence, just enjoying time to think. Allura tried to make sense of the writing on a few of the occasions they were together, but their thoughts were usually involved in other ways.

He placed the flower in her hair and tucked the stem under one of her braids.

"I wish I could give you a whole bouquet of them," he said.

Allura smiled and shook her head, brushing the thought aside. It would lead to too many questions, and she was not going to admit this relationship to anyone. "I don't need flowers. The courtyard needs them and you're all doing a fine job with it. Even though it's only a quarter accomplished, it looks incredible."

"You have to thank Lance. He found all the right plants. Every one that I found died."

"Except the butterfly lilies," she corrected.

Keith smiled. Then, he took a breath and took her hands in his. He regretted having to spoil the happy mood, but he needed to talk to Allura about when Coran came to see him the night of Prince Dirin's visit. He hesitated so often about it because their time was so short. With only a few stolen moments at a time, they always just wanted each other. Now, however, Keith was determined to stay on the task.

"Do you think Coran knows about us?" he asked.

Allura laughed quickly. "If he did, I would have become a prisoner of my bedroom a long time ago, and Nanny would have shipped you off-planet."

"I'm serious," Keith pressed. "I think he might know more than he pretends."

Taking a deep breath, the princess mulled it over. After a few moments she shook her head. "He's never been secretive like that. If Coran suspected anything, he would have questioned it."

"He did," Keith said watching her. "He spoke to me privately just before the dinner with Prince Dirin."

"You didn't tell him anything, did you?" she asked suddenly concerned.

"No," he replied. "It was mostly a one-sided conversation. Coran did the talking. He told me about how in the Voltron lore he found stories of a bond among the pilots that sometimes was rooted in love. Then, he told me that your father wanted only you in the Blue Lion and to keep you safe. He made it a final point to insist that my intentions remain noble."

"Coran might have just been testing you. He knows we are all close. Perhaps, he's questioned Lance and the others in similar ways."

"I don't dare ask the others," Keith explained. "We may be like brothers, but right now we can't take the chance on admitting anything."

"I agree," she smiled. "Let's not worry about Coran unless he asks again. We were all under a lot of stress that day. Perhaps that was why he questioned you. He was feeling anxiety and just didn't know where else to verbalize his fears." She sighed quietly. "All I know is that I'm very glad it's over."

Keith smiled, his imagined fears dissipating. Allura could be truly wise beyond her years when she was given the chance. He had more than one occasion where he was witness to her insight. He often wished Nanny would see it. None of them could understand why the servant never allowed Allura the opportunity to prove her maturity and intellect.

The princess placed her fingers on Keith's chin, her smile both teasing and mischievous. "Lance was right. You do like to daydream."

Her touch brought his mind back to the moment, and he couldn't help but reply in the same tone. "It depends on what I'm daydreaming."

Allura couldn't hide the smile on her face as Keith pulled her into a kiss. They still had a few moments and were going to be sure to enjoy them.

--- --- --- --- ---

The chamber was relatively dark with the exception of a few candles burning. King Zarkon sat upon the chair behind the desk. He was tired of signing execution orders and was grateful for the distraction from the witch who entered the room. He often enjoyed her late night visits. They had to maintain a certain appearance while they spoke in the throne room. But, in the weeks since he offered Hagar the opportunity to speak frankly in the privacy of his business chamber, their discussions have remained opened for argument or fine-tuning without an audience to judge them.

"Lotor came to me today," Hagar said, taking her place on the chair before the desk.

Zarkon seemed to sag at the mention of his son. "He does not understand patience."

"I told him of a vision I had, and it seemed to assuage his impatience."

"But, you need something of me."

"He merely wants the princess."

Zarkon sighed deeply. "That planet needs to be destroyed without question. They have insulted me and my forces too many times. The princess is nothing but a toy that Lotor wishes to own."

"She is the key to defeating Voltron." Hagar pressed. "I have pondered my latest vision multiple times. Lotor can destroy her, at least figuratively. Voltron will continue to defeat you if your son does not take her from Arus."

"Then, just kill her and get it over with. Enough of these kidnapping schemes," he said as though stating the obvious.

"There is something more about the vision that I have yet to make sense," she explained. "There is something that involves the princess, but it has not been revealed to me. In the meantime, I believe Lotor may be right in asking for a raid on Arus. It does not need to be high-scale. He will not require a robeast either. I am nearing the end of my experiments and I should have the final robeast ready in weeks."

"What kind of raid do you propose?" Zarkon asked, still skeptical.

"He will only need to attack Arus quickly, just enough to keep them off-guard. Besides, it would do the monarchy good for the Doom people to see that you still enjoy attacking for no particular reason. Even if Lotor comes back without slaves, killing a dozen or so of the Arusian people will keep the Voltron Force from growing too over-confident."

The king contemplated Hagar's explanations. Where Lotor would never be able to adequately explain himself, the witch knew exactly how to word such arguments.

"You will need to oversee this raid," Zarkon ordered. "If Lotor even remotely screws up a simple attack and run, I'll disown him." He sighed heavily for a moment. "How did he manage to grow so stupid?"

"He follows his lust and his emotions, Your Highness," Hagar offered. "His thoughts are clouded with a woman he only dreams to own, and he has allowed that to become an obsession. It is foolish, I agree, and it is his downfall. I believe if the princess should become his, you will find him a different man."

"Is that part of your vision, too?" Zarkon asked.

Hagar chuckled softly as she stood. "He will change one day. The princess is key to many things."

Then, just as quickly as she had entered the chamber, she was gone.

Zarkon looked back down with a frustrated sigh to the administrative work before him. He sometimes missed the days of being a warlord where he was responsible for only a shipload of warriors. Giving orders on a small scale was something he used to enjoy. Sometimes being the ruler of a planet was obtrusive and without reward. He knew he had everything he ever wanted now, but the adrenaline rush of running a full-scale attack still nagged at the back of his brain from time to time. Maybe once Arus was defeated, he would take up command again for one last run in a warship, just for old time's sake.

He laughed out loud suddenly at the concept. His youth was lived and done. He could only hope his son realized now was his time and once his time was over, he would regret it, too.


	4. Chapter 4

_Author's Notes:_ Again, I apologize for the delay. I had been enjoying my very rewarding role as a mommy since the birth of my son on February 9, 2007. As always, I hope I continue to do justice to the show and characters. 

I discovered recently that I had a misspelling on Witch Haggar's name. I have corrected it from this point forward.

No flames, please. However, I am grateful for constructive criticism that will help to develop my skills further as a writer.

_Disclaimer:_ I own nothing. I make no money. I only write about what I enjoy.

The Waltz Continues

Chapter 4 – A Game of Chance

The clock ticked in a nervous rhythm behind Lance. The miniature glow lamps that were set up around the table cast menacing shadows around the room. He could feel the weight of eyes upon him. He dared not move his hand, not even to brush aside the bit of hair that flopped onto his forehead and was causing the most aggravating tickle. He forced his breathing to keep slow and even. The slightest change in his natural rhythm would give him away. If he dared to blink too long, it could unravel the trap he spent the last ten minutes baiting.

Lance set his eyes upon the cards in his hand one last time. All he had was a pair of two's. It was a lousy hand at best. But, he had no intentions to be beaten this round. He was about to lose his most beloved and sentimental movie player. If it was one thing Lance loved, it was his movie collection. He looked forward many times to receiving the latest shipment of disks from Earth to watch at his leisure. He'll never know what possessed him to toss it in the pot in the previous round. Perhaps, it was Pidge's risky investment to ante selections from his comic book collection, including all five premiere issues of some legendary super heroes. Or, maybe it was Hunk's courage to toss his music player into the pot, which included thousands of songs from multiple eras in music history.

Resisting the temptation again to sigh, Lance brought his eyes forward to his friends.

"I say you guys should back out while you still have your dignity intact," he said quietly.

"I think you're bluffing," Pidge replied in a soft voice as well. They dared not be too noisy with their poker game continuing well past midnight. The last thing they wanted was Nanny to discover that they were gambling on the castle grounds. There was a rumor around the castle among some of the guards that Nanny once stepped on a set of dice and ground them into dust. Supposedly, she looked upon any form of gambling as a sin. Lance, Hunk, and Pidge, weren't going to take the chance to find out if the rumor was true. There were a lot of rumors about Nanny they decided they would rather not discover as truth. Instead, they chose to just keep their leisure activities quiet by locking themselves in the storage closet, which adjoined their recreation room.

"I say neither of you have a good hand, and you're both bluffing," Hunk whispered.

"Then, I'm going to up the ante," Lance said confidently. "I'm going to enter in my entire movie collection."

Pidge's impassive face finally broke. His jaw fell open. He dared a glance to his cards and shook his head. His pair of five's would do nothing good if Lance was willing to put his movie collection into the pot. "That's too rich for me. I fold."

Hunk took a careful breath and assessed the three Jacks in his hand. Lance had started out the game with a winning streak that included a full house and a diamond straight. Then, his luck turned downward in the last couple hands. It was possible that his luck turned around again and he truly believed in his cards. Still, Lance had also been able to bluff them earlier with a hand of nothing.

"The entire collection?" Hunk repeated, raising an eyebrow as he looked upon his friend.

"A through Z," Lance chirped happily.

"I don't think you'd give that up so easily," Hunk explained. "I'll fold."

With a sigh of relief, Lance showed his hand.

"You dirty scoundrel," Hunk grumbled.

"You bluffed…again!" Pidge whined.

"Hey, it's not my fault you two spent your high school years actually learning from a book when I spent mine learning the _finer_ arts."

The alarms in the castle suddenly began blaring as the transmitters on their belts started beeping in urgency. Lance pushed aside the deck of cards he had been shuffling and looked to the others. "Problems again."

Hunk and Pidge followed Lance out of their secret lair and headed for the control room.

--- --- --- --- ---

"Concentrate on that village, up near the eastern coast," Lotor commanded as he stood on the bridge of the warship his father loaned him.

"Yes, Sir," came the reply from General Vaton. He was a somewhat seasoned general, having served as a very young lieutenant under Zarkon when the Doom king used to lead his own raids. Vaton was not old, but he held an air of respect, and Lotor was certain his father chose Vaton for the raid to keep the soldiers from listening to what were considered the bad directives Lotor was known to issue in a rash moment.

The prince glanced around briefly at the Drules monitoring their stations. He could see how they were perceived as being nothing less than mechanical soldiers. Their indoctrination into the military consisted of techniques for erasing any trace of compassion or conscience. As they worked the control panels, there was no hint of the slightest hesitation. They willingly fired the weapons and navigated with a cold and calculating practice. All they needed was the order to do so.

Suddenly, Lotor clenched his fists in frustration. He still could not believe that his father would only allow him the usage of three ships: two warships and one slave ship. He was outraged by the trivial orders he was given. The objective was insultingly simple. They were to strike a village on Arus of Lotor's choosing, level it to the ground, and take any slaves if the attack allowed it. It was one of the most basic objectives imaginable of being a warlord, and Lotor felt like he was being tested.

His eyes remained ahead, watching the village he had chosen to attack. The village was enlarging from a tiny speck on the map overlay into a detailed area. Irregularly shaped splotches were sharpening their focus into houses and buildings. Dotted pixels were developing into a few people wandering the streets at the late hour.

Lotor tried to focus on the viewport, but he couldn't maintain complete concentration. He was aware of Haggar sitting quietly off to the side, her head lowered in meditation. He knew that his father sent the old hag along to baby-sit while he attacked Arus.  
Impatience and anger starting to flow through him, he looked for some source he could strike to release his pent-up negative energy. Lotor knew he was more than capable of handling a fast raid on his own.

"Remember the mission objective, my prince," Haggar cautioned gently.

Lotor slammed his fist onto the bridge rail. "I told you I hate it when you do that!"

The witch opened her eyes and raised them to Lotor. Her voice was strangely gentle. "Prove to your father you can do this raid. In order for my vision to come true, you must rise above a few mundane tasks."

The prince released his clenched fists and took a deep breath attempting to gather some sense of control. He knew the witch was right. He needed do deal with some petty assignments in order for the stars to align in his favor again. He just refused to admit that to Haggar or anyone else.

Lotor tapped a key on the control board, opening the communications, "Concentrate firepower on that measly village. If you see anything interesting, have the slave ship take prisoners. If not, then level it to nothing."

Shutting down the communications transmitter, Lotor finally sat in the bridge chair. With a satisfied sigh, he watched the first wave of lasers strike their mark. One of the houses ignited on fire before crumbling to chunks of rubble and dust. A larger building took multiple hits before blocks of stone and twisted metal rained down to the ground.

Within moments, the inhabitants of the village ran about the street in a panic. They were dressed in their nightclothes, scattering about in a frightened haze. Lotor watched with interest and satisfaction as women, men, and children tried to shield themselves hopelessly from debris and weaponry.

Fires had now erupted in the entire village. A small group of the villagers tried to flee the hellish attack. Their efforts were cut short as they ran directly into the tractor beam of the slave ship.

Lotor smiled now. There were at least twenty Arusian citizens who had suddenly become new members of the Drule slave class. The fresh slaves would provide the Drule citizens with a new show in the battle arena. And, Lotor would enjoy watching the arena beasts torture the stubborn Arusian people, leaving their mutilated bodies scattered about the stadium soil.

The village continued to burn, and what little of it was left crumbled to the ground. By Lotor's calculations, the ten minutes they used to attack were well spent. The raid was quick and served its purpose.

A voice came across the speakers in Lotor's ship. "Sire, we have incoming enemies."

"Cease fire and retreat," Lotor ordered calmly. He was surprised at his ability to walk away so easily. That had never been his nature. But, the objective of the mission was completed. He retrieved more slaves than he expected, and the village was left as a mess of fire, smoke, and smoldering debris.

--- --- --- --- ---

"We're approaching Ocean's Point," Keith relayed over the comm, letting Coran know their status. Silently he braced himself for any sign of a robeast or some other attack by Zarkon and Lotor's forces.

"Acknowledged," Coran replied. "Be careful."

Keith glanced at the control panel. There was still no sign of any alien lifeform or a ship other than the Lions. He wondered if Zarkon discovered a new kind of cloaking device.

_Your instruments don't lie._

Keith held back his startled breath. He never expected to hear the voice again. Days had passed without so much as a whisper in his Lion that he had begun to brush off the voice as nothing more than a figment of his imagination.

Carefully hitting one of the switches on the control panel, Keith closed the open communications channel interface. He hoped no one else would notice that he went over to silent mode for a few moments.

"Who are you?" he asked hoping to confirm his suspicions that the voice was the spirit of Voltron. In silent humor, he also hoped that some kind of conversation with the voice would contradict his fear that he had started going crazy.

_Your priority is not to me right now. Her planet is bleeding below._

Keith's eyes passed over the viewport, and his heart sank. They were far too late. The rubble and smoldering fires told a tragic story. Bodies and limbs lied scattered among the streets. The commander hoped at least one of the bodies would move or twitch. He prayed at least one citizen survived.

Without thought, he switched the comm back to an open channel.

"How could they?" Princess Allura whispered, the restraint of holding off tears evident in her voice.

"We're too late," Hunk grumbled.

"Son of a…" Lance started.

Pidge smartly cut him off as he tried to be logical and push aside his disgrace at the malice on the ground below them. "My long range scanners show three Doom ships breaking for orbit."

"Permission to kill?" Lance requested with an edge in his voice that sounded more like he wasn't asking.

"My scanner is showing some weak life signs. There are survivors," Allura offered, hope spilling now into her voice.

Keith wanted to split the Voltron Force up and attack the Doom fleet. He knew he could take Lance and leave the others to attend the wounded. But, he knew Allura would argue that it would be an act of aggression. Voltron and its respective Lions were designed to defend, never to attack in an offensive manner. Yet, he could argue that by attacking the fleet, they were defending the planet from a future attack.

_I understand your hesitation, Commander, but you must help the ones you can._

"Negative, Lance," Keith sighed realizing the voice in his Lion was being reasonable. "Our priorities are here."

--- --- --- --- ---

The Voltron Force had recovered only five Arusian citizens so far. One woman would require an amputation to her arm as it had been crushed under chunks of a wall. One man would be unfortunate and lose his legs. Two children were recovered: a little girl with a broken wrist and her younger brother who had been burned across his belly. The last survivor had suffered severe spinal injuries and was not expected to walk again.

Allura watched the medical teams do what they could. Body after body had been removed from the debris. They were respectfully covered with sheets, curtains, tablecloths, and whatever other large linen could be found until proper burials would be arranged. Ironically, she knew they were the lucky ones. There was a tally that was growing with the names of citizens who were taken as slaves, and their suffering's end would not be so quick.

The princess did all she could to keep her trembling under control. She was sickened and angry. She wished to scream with all her might until her voice went mute. She needed to throw her fists in rage. Her instincts dictated her to hunt and kill in revenge. It was her hardened diplomatic training that kept her in check. It was her soft heart and kind spirit that prevented her from doing something rash. It was her lack of physical strength that stopped her from getting a hold of Lotor so she could strangle him personally.

A familiar warmth touched upon her shoulder, and it was all she needed to come back to Arus and her people. She dared not look to Keith right now as her heart wished to be held and comforted. She feared one glance at him would undo the weeks they spent burying their relationship further in secret. But, she knew that this moment together would be perceived as nothing more than one leader to another discussing reparations.

Keith watched the grisly scene around them. Lance cursed his way through the horror, colorfully describing the ways he would love to bring Lotor and Zarkon to "justice." Hunk used his natural strength to move large pieces of debris as Pidge flexed his small body into spaces no one else could reach. They moved as one through the village in what looked like a rehearsed effort to find as many people as possible. The search was slowly turning from locating survivors to recovering bodies.

"We got too comfortable," Keith said with gentle regret. He felt the painful truth of the words he just spoke. They all had become accustomed to Voltron defending the planet with little loss of life. They took their last few victories too lightly. They began to relax their guard too easily.

"I hate them," Allura whispered with a revulsion entirely uncharacteristic of her.

Keith took a deep breath. Those few nights ago when they met in the cavern she was so happy and full of hope. The nightmare Lotor brought to her planet tonight had taken a toll on her worse than ever before.

"We won't forget this tonight," he explained softly. "It was a tragic mistake. We're all at fault."

"And our mistakes cost dearly, Keith." Allura tried to close her eyes and look away for a moment, but the lifeless faces just kept haunting her. "We cannot afford this kind of tragedy to be repeated."

Keith dared a glance at Allura. He would not allow her this kind of heartbreak again. They just needed to be more vigilant and prepared. In their comfort at the castle, the team allowed their guard to waver the slightest bit, and Lotor used the opportunity to his greatest advantage. Although the people of Arus were hit most tragically, it was Allura who would suffer the longest for it.  
Pulling out a small piece of paper, Keith slipped it into Allura's hand.

As the princess opened her eyes to look at the secret message, Keith made his way back to the help others in their rescue and recover efforts.

The diamond-shaped blank sheet of paper told her all she needed to know. Her eyes looked to the east, and she knew it would be a couple hours before sunrise. She felt the first stitch begin to repair the tear in her heart that the attack on Arus had caused. Her love for Keith was a risky chance she was glad she took. He was the only person who knew how to comfort her and reassure her in a way that made her burdens just a little lighter.


	5. Chapter 5

_Author's Notes_: Thanks again for all the encouragement!! I'm surprising myself with some of these quicker updates. I always hope I'm doing justice to _Voltron_ and its many characters.

No flames, please. However, I am grateful for constructive criticism that will help to develop my skills further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I make no money. I only write about what I enjoy.

The Waltz Continues

Chapter 5 – Trust and Treachery

Keith watched the monitors within his Black Lion closely. He needed to get out of the castle and feel like he was actually doing something. He told Coran he was going on patrol. He knew he would fare no better with discovering a surprise attack from Doom than the control room's sensors would. However, he needed to work on maintaining his focus. The raid that took place a couple nights ago on Ocean's Point showed him how much they failed Arus and its people. He still was beside himself over the attack.

His eyes glanced over the switch that would mute him to any other communications. He tried to think of a convincing excuse to turn off the open communications channel. He could still hear the heavy accent of the ghostly voice in his mind. So far, it had spoken of his love for Allura and gave him the extra rationale he needed in order to prioritize the team's actions.

Looking back to the viewport, Keith watched the distant blue sky. Before daybreak after that horrific night, he and Allura stole a few moments. They never got a chance to get to the cavern. Instead, they hid in the shadows of the courtyard. It was risky, but being able to look at the stars above gave them the hope that freedom from the Drule was still possible.

Her words from earlier that night continued to haunt him. _I hate them_, she had said. His heart broke for her. He wanted to find some way to console her, but there was nothing more he could do at that moment then just hold her. She didn't want a discussion. She didn't need anything more than to know he was with her and he cared.

_Her pain is now your pain._

"Coran, I'm going over to mute for a while," Keith said, his usual excuse the only one he could find. "I've got some diagnostics to run on Black Lion. I'll check in again if anything comes up that needs your attention."

"Acknowledged," came the advisor's calm reply.

Keith flipped the switch and took a deep breath. "I've been waiting for you."

_I know. You mean well, Commander, but you can do nothing for Arus as a lone wolf. The Lions are designed to run in a pride._

"I had hoped being alone would draw out your presence again."

_I suspected that was your intention. You seek a truth deeper than what lies physically before your eyes._

"I believe you have been amongst us all along, but what I don't understand is why you suddenly decided to reveal your existence."

_I will only reveal myself after much trust has been earned. You earned that trust when you became her suitor._

"Allura? My love for her has revealed you?"

_Indirectly, Commander. You have proven yourself a worthy leader and a compassionate man. Most importantly, however, you are a man of honor. Those are strong qualities._

Keith took a quiet breath. He prayed for no interruptions. It was the longest conversation he had with the voice. It was now time to confirm what he suspected. "Are you the spirit of Voltron?"

_Your insight serves you well._

"Have you spoken with any of the others?"

_I've only brushed by your princess. She was not entirely prepared for my presence, and I will pursue contact again at a later point. As for your companions, they are not yet ready to comprehend that which you instinctively know. They rely too much on logic and science for their answers. You have reached within your heart and soul for what you seek. It is what bonded our connection._

Keith touched his hand gently along the control panel. In his wildest dreams and childhood fantasies he never once thought he would have the opportunity to connect with anything like Voltron. "I always felt I understood the Black Lion on some strange instinctive level. What I felt all along was your presence."

_Yes. When I was created, I was infused by the magic of ancient Arusian mages. In a sense, I have been imprisoned in these Lions. They keep me from disintegrating into non-existence. I am imbedded into the very metal and technology that flows through each Lion. When a Lion is struck, I feel pain. When a Lion is damaged, I am injured. When all five Lions connect, my spirit is whole again. It is how we all work as one. Your commands flow through your team and pass into me. We become a symbiotic being. We need each other to survive._

Keith found himself speechless. Understanding Voltron was far beyond anything he could have ever expected. He never thought of magic as more than parlor tricks done by clever and dexterous people. Magic was something intangible and unrealistic on Earth. He didn't understand the first iota of magic, and ancient alien magic was even further beyond his comprehension. Yet, somehow it existed and Voltron was proof of it.

_I understand, Commander, that this is a lot to comprehend…especially since you are not of this planet. My pilots in the past had knowledge of such magic. Unfortunately, it is now lost to this and future generations._

"But, it makes sense," Keith said trying to find a way to explain it. "I somehow understand, like I've known all along."

_You have strong instincts, Commander, and a purity of heart that allows you to see what others dismiss. It is why you were chosen to be my head and my heart._ There was a slight pause. _Return to your pilots now, Commander. Your questions have been answered for today._

Keith closed his eyes for a moment, trying to absorb so much. When he opened them, he felt a sense of calm. He wasn't alone and wouldn't have to make every decision himself. A great weight seemed lifted off his shoulders. He could feel Voltron in his Lion, a presence that was inviting but strong.

--- --- --- --- ---

Allura stood on the balcony, looking toward the sky. Her pink gown swayed gently in the breeze, and her curls waved about her head. She rested her hands lightly on the stone rail, allowing herself a moment to bathe in the memory of the kiss she stole with Keith during the visit of Prince Dirin.

She almost couldn't believe that night was so many weeks ago. In that moment, Arus seemed to be at peace for once. She didn't worry about Planet Doom, Zarkon, Lotor, Haggar, or any sinister plot against her people. Dealing with the politics of escaping an arranged marriage seemed so trivial in comparison to what happened at Ocean's Point.

The images of the smoking village and the dead citizens suddenly invaded and attacked her happy memory, and she forced her thoughts back to the present. Her eyes scanned the countryside outside the border of the castle. She watched the trees sway in a silent rhythm as the wind blew over the landscape. A few wild animals scampered between the trees. She would never understand why it was so imperative that Zarkon have her planet. He had so many worlds in his command already. If he and his forces had never attacked Arus, the Drule would be considered nothing more than villains in some space adventure tale.

"Princess, you've been out in the sun long enough," Nanny sighed. "You have studies waiting, and you need to brush up your formal etiquette. Your grammar slacked on your speech yesterday."

Allura took a quick breath, startled by the sound of Nanny's voice. She hadn't realized she was so absorbed in her own thoughts.

"Nanny, please, I'm just not able to concentrate," Allura requested. "I wouldn't be able to apply myself to studies right now with the focus they require."

The governess stepped onto the balcony. "Princess, you need to forgive yourself for what Lotor did the other night. Getting back into your studies is what you need to get your mind off of it."

"But knowing the difference between using 'us' or 'we' in a speech won't keep my people safe," Allura insisted. She turned to the servant feeling a protective fire within her for the Arusian people. "I should be up there with Keith patrolling or with the others helping to rebuild Ocean's Point. We should be planning new defenses. We need…"

Nanny suddenly interrupted, "You're not a soldier, Princess. You should be keeping up the skills required for diplomacy. Instead of flying recklessly, you need to be understanding hierarchies and etiquette. I'm not done looking for a husband for you. I'm determined to find someone who can take your place in that metal beast so you can be safe in the castle. Arus still needs heirs for the throne…"

Allura began to walk away, ignoring the rest of Nanny's ranting. She didn't want to hear anymore about princes, etiquette, and heirs. The servant would never understand that the Arusian monarchy died with her parents, especially when her love was for a man with no ounce of royal blood. The arguments she and Nanny had about reviving the monarchy were endless, and she didn't want to have that quarrel yet again.

The governess was quicker than Allura expected and grasped her arm suddenly. "Don't you walk away from me, Princess."

"I'm not a child!" Allura protested as she tried to pull her arm free.

"But, you are acting like one," Nanny grumbled. "If you want to help your people, you need to start behaving like a princess."

"How much more of a princess can I be?" Allura shouted angrily. "I would die for my people."

"And leave them with no one," the servant argued. "I'm bringing you to the study with me, and I'll make sure you stay focused."

Coran's voice suddenly interrupted calmly but sternly. "Let her go, Nanny."

"What?" she asked dumbfounded.

The elder statesman stepped forward. "Lance just called and requested that Allura bring provisions for the workers helping at Ocean's Point."

Nanny sighed and grumbled as she let go of Allura's arm. "We should be sending out some guards instead."

The princess moved from the servant and caught Coran's eye. "Thank you," she whispered.

The advisor nodded silently to her before she disappeared in the castle. He then looked to Nanny just in time to catch her stern look of disapproval before she took her leave of the balcony. "I would swear, Coran, that his late majesty has begun to possess you."

With the servant now gone, Alfor's voice echoed around Coran. _Nanny's become extremely fearful of losing Allura. She has no one of her own, and my daughter is all she has to feel useful._

Coran sighed tiredly. "I probably should have called Lance before coming out here so I could forewarn him that Allura would be joining them."

Alfor laughed for a moment. _Yes, that might not be such a bad idea. I probably was a bit hasty in getting you to interfere in the latest battle between Allura and Nanny._

"Just a bit hasty, Your Majesty?" Coran asked, smiling in spite of himself.

_Go contact Lance. And, thank you._

"You're welcome, old friend."

--- --- --- --- ---

Zarkon slid the heavy, leather-bound book back into place on the shelf. His business chamber was always in order and tidy, not a document out place. He prided himself on his attention to organization. It not only served to keep his chambers neat, it was an indication of his efficiency.

He pulled out another book for a moment and studied the cover carefully. He never thought of himself as a scholar. He was far from that in his youth. He would admit to having been reckless and aggressive. It was learning battle techniques that reeled in his raw personality. When he attended the academy, he found that the strategies of war spoke to him. He could decipher an attack plan by just viewing a sketch of it. There was a time he could find any hole in a tactic and think of how to plug it.

Zarkon opened the book carefully. Within it were the handwritten sketches of some of the battle schematics he drafted while at the academy. His sergeants were awed by his insight and creative manipulation of the armies. Somewhere between retiring from the excitement of being a warlord and becoming king, he lost the ability to design attack plans on a whim. His son would jump to the quick conclusion that Zarkon had started a mind deterioration, something that happens to the Drule when they start near the end of their life expectancy. Zarkon, however, knew differently. He was not in his prime any longer, but he was far from deteriorating.

A smile crept over his face at the tactics he spent so long preparing for his instructors. He flipped the page. Aerial combat was his forte more so than ground attack. There was something about using the empty space and creating a new dimension, which broadened his view on battle. Ground attacks were merely two dimensions. They drove him to boredom. He enjoyed plotting the challenge of the aerial assault.

No, a mind deterioration was not Zarkon's problem. He was out of practice, wasting away as a king. He was slowly dying under the guise of a dictating diplomat. He grew lazy as his every whim was handled with just a spoken word. He enjoyed being spoiled and waited on hand and foot. He was certain he could enjoy this kind of retirement, reaping the benefits of the empire he sowed.

He never expected to have a son who would slowly bring decay to his harvest. Pushing aside the feeling of defeat, Zarkon closed the book and placed it back where it belonged.

"You hope he will change, Your Highness," Haggar offered carefully.

The king turned to face the witch, who had taken her place before his desk.

"I know Lotor hates when you do that, Haggar. You're lucky I'm more patient."

"I sense a betrayal," she offered, hurriedly changing the subject.

"Tell me what you know, Witch," Zarkon instructed. He took his seat at the desk and watched Haggar carefully.

"Your son is the target. He will not be able to recover from this betrayal."

"Who will betray him?" Zarkon asked, suddenly concerned. "Tell me, and I'll execute the traitor now."

Haggar shook her head. "I cannot sense who. The air just tingles with it. Around Lotor is an aura that forebodes it."

"Can it be stopped?"

Again, the witch shook her head. This time she cocked it slightly as though able to see something that wasn't in the room. Her eyes closed to slits, new comprehension dawning in them. "It could benefit him. It is odd. I sense this betrayal might ultimately destroy him. Should he survive it, though, he could very well become the son you seek."

Zarkon took an annoyed breath. "Why can't your visions ever be clear-cut?"

Haggar laughed softly, her eyes returning to normal. "Clarity into the future taints it, My Liege."

"So does incomplete information," he shot back.

"Should things become clearer, Your Highness, I will report back to you immediately."

Zarkon watched Haggar disappear through the door. She closed it softly behind her, and he felt suddenly alone. He found it peculiar. He had everything and everyone he could ever want. The image of his deceased wife passed in his mind. There were times he missed her. They never shared love, but she was a companion. He had many nights when he went to their bedchamber excited over a new victory or exhausted from making a hard decision. She was compassionate to him at those moments but never loving.

The Drule king unlocked one of the drawers in his desk. He pulled out a braid of golden hair tied with a blue ribbon.

"Perhaps, I shouldn't have killed you in my haste," he whispered. "I miss how you listened to me."

After a moment, he returned the hair and locked the drawer again. He hated it when he grew sentimental. He hated feeling weak. She could do that to him. His wife was the only one who ever witnessed his weak moments. And, maybe that was one of the reasons he killed her. He couldn't let anyone ever know he was vulnerable.


	6. Chapter 6

_Author's Notes_: Thanks so much to everyone who's been following this story!! I saw I had gained a few new "Author Alerts" as well as some "Story Alerts." I appreciate everyone who's taken an interest. Please don't be shy about leaving comments. I consider them an honor and will always get back to you to offer my personal thanks.

As always, no flames, please. However, I will accept constructive criticism in order to develop further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I own nothing. I make no money. I only write about what I enjoy.

The Waltz Continues

Chapter 6 – Secrets and Trials

Allura closed the book with a tired sigh. Memorizing the hierarchy of a non-existent governmental body seemed to be such a useless waste of time. Arus wasn't going to be providing representatives for a parliament any time soon. There were no more governmental meetings in which debates and discussions were guided by the royalty of Arus. There was no longer a house of delegates who would take votes, allowing the high monarch the privilege to either veto or accept a new law. The democracy that once reigned on the planet disintegrated under the hatred of Zarkon's merciless attacks.

Frustrated with having to be a leader under constant war, Allura stood from the desk where she had been studying. She felt her skirts fall to the floor. The heavy gown was a reminder of the burdens she carried. Depending on her decisions, her people would either suffer or survive. Sometimes it seemed too much to handle. She wished she still had a governing body to make decisions with her.

She felt the familiar tickle on her shoulder of her mouse, Cheddar. Turning to him, she watched his little nose twitch as he sensed her uneasiness. Allura touched her fingers upon his head, scratching him gently. With a smile, she put a few treats onto her desk. Cheddar scurried down her arm and helped himself to the awaiting snacks.

Turning to the window in her room, Allura watched the distant sun slowly sink behind the horizontal line of trees. The violet of night was creeping toward the last bit of orange and red. Allura stared at the first star of the night as it began to peek out through the violet shroud.

Cheddar brushed against her hand and squeaked in a way that almost sounded like a question. Allura found herself laughing quietly for a moment.

"Peace," she explained. "I wished for peace." She longed for peace on Arus and she longed for peace of mind. She wanted to one day be free to love Keith openly, without threat from the Drule or her surrogate parents.

Shaking her head, Allura sighed deeply. She had wasted an entire afternoon studying. It was by her choice this time, she mused quietly. After having time to rethink her actions, Allura realized she had been a bit hasty with Nanny the other day. Her studies never were truly completed when they should have been. According to the curriculum that was originally provided when she was a child, she was still two years behind in her lessons before she could be considered a high graduate of Arusian culture, knowledge, and government. There were too many gaps in her learning due to the attacks, the loss of her parents, hiding in secret, and then becoming a pilot.

Turning from the sunset, Allura decided she had enough for one day. She was overwhelmed with memorizing the names of some of Arus' top delegates and their contributions to the planet's betterment. She knew Nanny would call them all to dinner shortly, but Allura decided that stretching her legs and working out the kinks in her neck would do her some good. She quietly left her room and wandered aimlessly through the castle. Not entirely certain why, she found herself heading upwards. Every turn she took, she followed the stairs that led up to the one of the towers.

Allura stopped a moment and realized that she had never been to this level of the new castle before. In the old one, she investigated it with the interest of an excited explorer. There was so much to the old stone walls. She found hidden alcoves she could only imagine that the servants used for private rendezvous. There were loose bricks where she often found secret treasures hidden behind. There was never anything too elaborate that she discovered. It was usually just small toys or inexpensive jewelry. When she got older, Allura discovered that it was her father who hid such items. She caught him one day slipping a wind-up mouse behind one of the bricks. When she confronted him about it, he merely smiled and laughed that he had finally been caught.

_Is this another of your hunts, Father?_ Allura thought silently. She looked upwards at the spiral of steps she still had to climb. She turned to look back down the way she had come for a moment. The pull to keep moving up was stronger. She returned to her task and followed the steps to the end.

A small hallway lay at the top with one door directly before her. Allura glanced around the metal walls. They were bare from any artifacts or decoration. One small window was imbedded in the wall on her right. She moved to it and looked out. The scene was nothing but a dark abyss. The stars above were the only indication that she was looking outside.

Taking a deep breath, she turned to the door. Unlike all the other doors in the castle that used a keypad switch, this one had a doorknob. She found it unusual but strangely fitting. Placing her hand upon the doorknob, Allura was surprised it turned without resistance. Cautiously, she opened it and stepped inside.

It was dark, which was not unexpected. Her heart pounded with the anticipation of a giant spider's nest or some other hibernating insect. Her hand slid over the light panel switch, and the room lit up in a soft glow. A small writing desk made of dark wood stood by the door. In the center of the room was a large bed with high posts. Peach draperies fell from the canopy above the center of the bed, wrapping like ribbons around each post. The blankets upon the bed matched the peach of the canopy. Allura touched them gently. The fabric was thick and soft. Her fingers traced one of the posts on the bed, her fingertips falling into elaborately carved grooves in the dark wood. She found it strange that there wasn't any dust in the room. For a moment, she grew concerned that she happened upon a secret bedchamber that belonged to Nanny. Then, her eyes caught sight of the writing desk again.

Allura stepped toward the desk. Butterfly lilies were carved into the rich, dark wood. She opened one of the drawers to find it was empty. She opened another one, finding it empty as well. The last drawer was stuck. She attempted to pull on it a couple times, but it refused to give. Sighing in defeat, Allura pulled the chair out and sat on it. She tried to imagine why such a beautiful bedroom set was hidden away in a tower of the castle. There seemed to be more secrets to her family than she imagined.

Moving her fingers along the trim of the desk where there was a set of vines, Allura felt a tiny button under the lip of wood. She pushed on it gently and the drawer she could not open suddenly popped ajar.

Nervously, Allura pulled the drawer open and found a leather-bound journal within it. She took the journal and placed it carefully on the desk. It was no larger than the size of her hands, but it was thickly filled with blank paper.

Opening the journal, Allura saw that there was a small note written on the inside cover.

_Dearest Allura,_

_I knew one day you would find this little treasure. I hope you aren't too old as you come across my gift to you. Your father told me how you enjoy such games. I asked him to allow me to give you a room fit for a queen. It will be your personal space to hide away from your troubles. I thought a room facing east would be appropriate. May the morning sun greet you with the strength and energy you need to handle all that is required of a princess, or perhaps by now, a queen. May you find this room a place of solitude and tranquility. The desk is for your many tasks that you may need to handle in quiet. The bed is for when you experience weary nights and wish to wake up to the silent kiss of the sunlight. The journal is to be a record of your days as Arus' leader, a learning guide for you to look back upon as your experience increases._

_I wish I could have given you more, Allura. I know that Arus will be safe under your leadership and guidance._

_I love you, always._

_Mother_

_P.S. I trust you came across this room in cleanliness. That would be your father's contribution. He invented what he calls a "Dust-Bot," a small cleaning droid to keep the room orderly._

Allura traced her fingers delicately over the handwriting. Her heart ached for a moment to have again with her mother. She could hear her mother's laughter in the P.S. of the note. Quietly, Allura whispered, "I love you, too."

Putting the journal back in its hidden drawer, Allura knew she had to get to the dining room before too much longer. The last thing she needed was Nanny sending out a search party.

--- --- --- --- ---

_It's why you were chosen to be my head and my heart._

The voice of Voltron echoed continuously as though on a looped recording in Keith's mind. He couldn't escape the conversation. He learned so much from such a short amount of time. He wanted to share in his excitement with the others, but he didn't know how they would react. He didn't want to have to deal with being tormented about going insane.

He looked to his friends. They were casually sitting around the recreation lounge, awaiting Nanny to call them to dinner. Hunk happily programmed the next set of songs on the music reader, filling the room with music. The latest song that played started with a strong harmonica that suddenly turned into heavy guitar rifts and powerful drum rhythms. The male vocalist had the ability to draw the listener in. The voice was hypnotizing but strong. The lyrics strangely spoke about hope and perseverance, from what seemed like a dark perspective. Hunk picked up a computer datapad, scrolling through the list of the newest music deciding what else he wanted to include on his music reader.

Pidge sat with his latest pile of comic books, avidly reading of fictional heroes. The comic currently in his hands had a cover that showed a depiction of the newest champion. It wasn't the usual man of muscle or a woman with an extreme figure. This story's hero was a teenage girl, a hapless student who wore glasses and unfashionable clothes. In the girl's hands was an elaborate katana sword. The shock on the character's face gave the impression that this hero was falling into some adventure beyond her wildest imagination.

Internally, Keith laughed over the irony. He sympathized with the hero of the comic. His adventure lately seemed like some fantastic bedtime story. He was talking to an ancient spirit imbedded in ancient machinery. He was involved with a princess in a relationship that was forbidden by the laws of Arusian royalty. At times he felt like he was living a double life. He was hiding his happiness and his accomplishments from his friends. It wasn't his nature at all, but it was the requirement of the moment.

Lance gently jabbed Keith in the ribs with the pool stick he was using for their billiards game.

"I just scratched," he offered sourly. "You planning to take your turn anytime soon?"

Keith broke from his thoughts for a moment. He found a way to cover his latest incident of daydreaming and used his friends for inspiration. His attempt at humor was, as usual, lame. "You're going soft, Lance. I heard about your illegal poker game. It was nice of you to not accept your winnings."

"Hey, let's get one thing straight," Lance explained. "I'm not _nice_. I had a momentary revelation after Ocean's Point and decided to be _charitable_."

Keith moved around the pool table. He took the cue ball in his hand and selected a position on the table he felt would be a good shot. He was finally glad to have something to use against Lance. It was a relief to be on the giving end of the bantering for once. He decided to push his luck. "You're getting soft."

Lance leaned against the wall and watched Keith set up his shot. "You can call it what you want. I still call it being charitable."

"Could you two pipe down?" Hunk asked. "You're drowning out my music."

"Yeah, well, you're all distracting me from my reading," Pidge chimed in.

"There's a library in the castle," Lance offered. "I doubt the empty chairs would mind you sitting on them."

Pidge stuck out his tongue before returning to his reading. Lance shrugged his shoulders helplessly. "I tried."

Keith lined up his shot with a striped ball near a corner pocket. He struck the cue ball gently and sunk the ball he needed. As the cue ball slowed to a stop, he tried to figure out which angle would work best to sink the next ball.

Nanny's voice came over the intercom of the recreation room, interrupting the long-overdue casual evening. "Dinner is ready."

"Finally, I'm starving!" Hunk proclaimed happily as he shut down the music.

"Slow down there, big guy," Lance teased, "You wouldn't want that muscle to become flab."

"No chance of that," Pidge laughed as he patted Hunk's belly. "There's far too much room to be filled in here first."

Hunk stood tall. "Okay, wise guy, last one to the dining room owes Nanny a compliment."

Pidge suddenly turned and started running. "Outta here!"

"Hey, don't include me on that bet!" Lance shouted as he watched Hunk chase Pidge through the door.

Keith laughed at his friends as he moved to put the pool stick away on the rack. When he turned around, Lance was blocking the door with his hands folded across his chest.

"Tell me a story," he said, his humor suddenly erased.

Keith took a quiet breath. He knew those words all too well. It was Lance's way of asking what was bothering him. He wasn't sure exactly what Lance was looking for. He was certain that his relationship with Allura was still a secret. Keith decided to play dumb and offer nothing until he knew specifics.

"Do you want a sci-fi thriller or a suspenseful mystery?" he asked in response.

"Very funny, Keith. But, you're not the wise guy around here. Leave the wise-cracks to me." Lance refused to move from his position, and he knew he would get nowhere unless he started the conversation. "You've been running a lot of diagnostics on Black Lion lately. I know that you've put the comm on mute more than once. Is there something you're trying to hide from me or Hunk and Pidge?"

"They wouldn't understand," Keith started. "I'm not even sure you would."

"Try me," Lance offered. "I've seen a lot of strange things since we got here."

Keith thought about it for a minute. He looked to Lance, "Next time you're in Red Lion, listen." He paused to stress the point. "_Really listen_."

"For what?" Lance asked, "Engine failure? Hydraulic pressure pops? Friction on the gears?"

"Just listen to Red Lion," Keith said. "If you believe in it strong enough, you'll understand."

Lance sighed in defeat and stepped from the door. "Fine. Can you at least give me a hint?"

"You'll know it when you hear it. That's the best I can offer."

The two of them exited the recreation room, Lance still not entirely convinced. "You're a real wealth of information, you know that, Keith?"

"Have a little faith for once, Lance. You might just be surprised."

--- --- --- --- ---

Haggar studied the robeast before her. Something still felt missing. She couldn't place what. The giant beast was equipped with all the weaponry she could possibly imagine. It was muscular and strong, sporting a broad chest. Its arms and legs were chiseled with muscle, showing the physical strength of the beast. Spikes extended from the shoulders. Razor-sharp claws hung from thick fingers. Fangs dripped with saliva from its wide mouth. The head was a tri-clops, a feat she took much pride in. Two eyes were in the normal position. One eye, however, was in the back of the head, allowing the advantage of being able to see behind it. The green-skinned body was covered in a hard layer of armor with razor points protruding from the breastplate. The robeast was equipped with a broadsword and a spiked shield.

"It is quite a specimen," Lotor said with approval as he walked into the laboratory.

"Something isn't quite right," Haggar offered. "I'm thinking that maybe a trial run would help me resolve the final flaw."

"You know that if Voltron kills it, you'll have to start again," he explained.

"Not entirely, your majesty. I've cloned it, and the clone is currently going through the growing process. It would not be difficult to program the clone with this one's information. I believe unleashing this one on Arus will resolve for me what I am missing."

"How does Father feel about this?" Lotor asked.

"I have not brought it to him yet. I was hoping to correct the flaw first."

"What is the flaw?"

"I won't know until it actually fights Voltron," she explained. "I just have a feeling about it right now. I do not believe it has anything to do with the design of the robeast or the weaponry. There's something more underlying that I can't quite put my finger on."

Lotor looked to Haggar. He was willing to do anything to attack Arus again. If a robeast attack could bring him that much closer to Allura, he was not against the risk. He felt the robeast would at least do some adequate damage to the Lions and possibly even one of the space explorers.

"I do not think Father would deny you your test," he offered. "I am beginning to think he is growing increasingly anxious to see Arus destroyed. He is reasonable on things like this, and I feel he would give us his blessing to test the robeast."

Haggar nodded absently. The dark aura of betrayal hung heavier around Lotor. It was steadily increasing. A series of images flashed before her. They made little sense as her visions always did. Clearly, though, she saw Princess Allura's spirit broken. Then, she saw Lotor falling to his knees in anger. His hatred was wild and pure, the betrayal eating at him like a rapid cancer.

"Witch, are you okay?" he asked.

Haggar found herself on the floor of the laboratory. Lotor knelt beside her, a strange mix of concern and hesitation on his face. He was afraid to touch her, but he didn't want to see her hurt.

"Too many hours working on this robeast," she lied. She didn't dare tell him she just had a vision in his presence. Lotor could not know his future yet. It had to play out without him knowing. It was the only way to bring forth the chance he would become the warlord he was meant to be.

Haggar slowly brought herself to her feet. "Go and get your father's blessing for an attack on Arus. I think testing this robeast will do all of us some good. An attack will brighten our spirits."

Lotor smiled, the bloodlust of the hunt in his eyes. He hurried out of the laboratory.

Haggar took a deep breath. Her eyes looked over the robeast again. An image of Voltron flashed in her mind. Again, the elusive piece to her robeast's flaw hung before her, and she couldn't decipher what her vision was trying to say.

"I'm sorry, my pet," she sighed. "You must be sacrificed in order for me to understand how to stop Voltron."

-- -- -- -- --

_Additional Author's Notes_: The song that Hunk is playing in the above scene is Godsmack's "Shine Down." Obviously, the description above is my interpretation. Pidge's comic is a figment of my imagination. Should such a character exist, it is purely coincidental.


	7. Chapter 7

_Author's Notes_: Again, thank you to everyone who is sticking with this! I'm honored and grateful for everyone's interest. I cannot stress enough that I always hope I am continuing to do justice to _Voltron_ and its respective characters.

As always, no flames, please. However, I will accept constructive criticism in order to develop further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I own nothing. I make no money. I only write about what I enjoy.

The Waltz Continues

Chapter 7 – Noble Emotions

"Listen, he says," Lance grumbled as he thought back to his conversation with Keith from the night before. The second-in-command ventured out to his Red Lion prior to dawn. He used the excuse that he wanted some target practice in the dark. And, he stressed that he wanted to be left alone. He decided he would try Keith's tactic of running the communications on mute.

The Lion ran through the air as though excited to be free from its resting place below the lava. It handled easier than usual, but the noise in the cockpit was more pronounced than normal. It was not the sound of servos and motors as he always assumed it to be. There was something rhythmic about the noises that he never stopped to think about before. Trying a different tactic, Lance pulled the Lion to a stop and landed beside the depths of a canyon. He expected the noise to quiet now that the Lion wasn't sprinting anymore. Instead, the din seemed to be worse.

_Really listen,_ Keith had told him. His commander's words were almost a plea, a hope that Lance would take a moment to look beyond the obvious.

"I feel like an idiot," Lance complained after a few minutes. He watched the empty sky, aware of the slit in the distant horizon as day slowly began to break. Taking a calming breath, he decided he would close his eyes. _Hey, it worked for Luke_, he mused silently thinking about a scene from one of his favorite movies. Lance put effort into concentrating on nothing but the noise around him.

The humming and motors changed slightly in pitch. The mechanical sound he was so accustomed to hearing slowly began to melt away. The resonance took on multiple layers. Something that sounded like a low note in an orchestral piece hummed while a gentle, higher-pitched murmur melodically played a strange tune. It was like listening to a song with instruments he had never seen or heard before.

"So what should I be hearing, Keith?" Lance asked softly.

_He sent you._

"Holy Crap!" Lance shouted and opened his eyes suddenly. His question was supposed to be rhetorical. He was not supposed receive a reply. He didn't expect anything to respond. Lance could feel his heart beating rapidly. He was instantly sweaty and cold at the same time. His hands shook on the controls. Taking a deep breath, he tried to bring his body back to normal. He wasn't easily spooked like that. He couldn't possibly have heard a voice talking.

"Okay, just a weird coincidence," he reasoned. He noticed that the noises around him sounded normal again.

Lance grasped the controls more calmly. His shaking subsided, and he relaxed. Keith had told him he'd know what to listen for when he heard it. Was that voice exactly was he supposed to listen for? There were so many different noises and so many levels of sound around him that he was confused at best about what to focus on.

Lance debated about if he should dare to try again or if he should just think that Keith was going crazy. As he thought about it, he felt determined to try once again. He and Keith had been through a lot together. The man had saved him more times than he cared to count. If it wasn't for Keith's grounded insight, Lance would have probably been court-martialed from the academy a long time ago and never would have seen the rank of lieutenant.

Studying the interlocked key in the Red Lion's interface, Lance thought about how Keith was a brother who shared no blood with him. Where Lance was hotheaded and in a rush, Keith was calm and patient. When Lance started down the path of mischief, it was Keith who reined him in and offered a more sane way to pull off the stunt. It was only a couple of the many reasons why they were paired up early on to be co-leaders in their squad. They balanced each other out.

Lance sighed quietly. If Keith was going crazy, then Lance was going to join him. Because of their friendship and brotherly connection, Lance knew he had no choice but to try and listen again. He owed Keith at least that much.

Closing his eyes, Lance took a few deep breaths. He concentrated all he could into the sounds around him. After a few moments, the noises melted away and the symphony began to play once more. Lance braced himself. He didn't want to be taken off-guard again. If that voice spoke a second time, he knew then it was what Keith wanted him to hear.

_Greetings, Lieutenant._

Lance opened his eyes slowly. There was no one around him. "Hi?" he asked cautiously.

_I am honored you trusted in your Commander._

"Okay, I get it now," Lance laughed sarcastically. "Nice trick, Keith! You can reveal yourself. Ha-ha. Very funny."

_Perhaps, he was mistaken and you are not yet ready._

Lance rubbed his face with his hand trying not to lose his grasp on the situation. Keith told him to have faith. It was no different than Lance following the feeling in his gut instead of a prepared plan. Sometimes, he realized, a strategy looked all nice and pretty on paper, but in the reality of the situation spontaneous adjustments had to be made. It was the one main peeve he had with his superiors in the academy. Their philosophy didn't factor in spontaneous emotional decisions. And now, Lance knew he had to take a leap of faith.

"I'm sorry," he said, trying to find some way to continue the conversation. It was the chance of a lifetime to interact with something unexplainable. "It's not every day that empty air actually answers anything I say."

_Your bewilderment was not unexpected, Lieutenant._

"Hey, you can call me Lance," he offered. "I hate using titles and ranks."

_My formality cannot be changed. I apologize for your discomfort._

Lance watched his hands for a moment as they rested on the controls. "I hope you'll forgive me, whoever you are, if I tell you that the first step to insanity is talking to oneself and actually hearing a reply."

_I am aware that on your planet of origin unexplainable happenings are considered as such._

"Good," he answered, deciding to turn the conversation to answers he could understand. "Then, enough small talk. Who are you and why are you haunting Keith?"

_Do you not see for yourself? Your instincts tell you, but you fight within yourself to believe them._

"Right now my instincts tell me that I'm talking to empty space, and I'm lying to my friends about having an early morning session of target practice."

_Why do you dismiss what cannot be explained tangibly?_

"Because hokey religions and ancient weapons…"

_Tell me how you really feel about your Red Lion, the segment that is my right arm._ The voice interrupted. Although there was still a strong feel of patience in the words, curiosity filled them more.

Lance felt his jaw drop finally. He looked around him, feeling a new wave of recognition. His exterior melted as though the lava from where his Lion launched had burned away his outer shell. His instincts came through to the surface, rising from the ashes of the lava's destruction. His leap of faith had launched him across a vacant chasm of uncertainty, his feet landing safely upon a new ground of understanding.

"Voltron," he whispered.

_You now comprehend, Lieutenant. An emotional, but noble involvement with your decisions is the basis of your actions. You would not hesitate to destroy that which harms your team. Your protection of them is why you were chosen as my right arm. I needed a pilot who would not hesitate to defend, no matter how severe the strike of my arm would be._

--- --- --- --- ---

Allura pressed her lips to Keith's, taking solace in the comfort their closeness created. Her hands found their familiar place along the back of his neck, his dark hair tickling over her fingers. His arms came around her, and she relaxed under the protective warmth of his strength. She felt his hands grasp affectionately around the small of her back, his fingers gently finding purchase on the material of her jumpsuit. There was nowhere else she wanted to be but in this moment.

_Guard this love._ The words Allura heard so long ago while preparing for a practice exercise suddenly came to her. It reinforced her emotions, and she leaned into Keith further. She wasn't certain at that time who spoke those words. She knew it wasn't her father, though. The accent was far too deep and pronounced. She sensed it was an ancient spirit, but who it was or why it would know about her relationship didn't make sense to her. All she knew was that those words were imbedded in her heart. She didn't want to lose Keith. She couldn't imagine not being with him ever again.

Keith held Allura tightly. Two nights apart from her was becoming too much. He couldn't imagine how they stayed distanced for two weeks once. He knew that sneaking this pre-dawn meeting was a risk because of Lance out early. If he suddenly returned to the castle and was looking for either of them, it would be a complicated story Keith didn't want to try to explain.

Feeling Allura holding him tighter, he wondered if there would ever be a time he could be with her without having to hide. For once, he wanted to hold her in a place with color and light, someplace where they could feel safe and not have to become one with the shadows. He wanted to be with her where he could see the sun highlight her golden hair. He wanted to see her eyes sparkle like sapphires in the daylight, and he wanted to laugh softly at her blushed cheeks when he would say something to playfully embarrass her.

Knowing it wasn't something that could happen any time soon, Keith pushed the thoughts aside. Slowly, he pulled back from her and rested his forehead against hers, feeling her gentle breath caress his chin.

"I was just imagining us old and decrepit meeting like this," he laughed softly.

Her quiet laughter echoed in the cavern. He could see she was trying to picture it as well. Then, it suddenly stopped. Her eyes closed for a moment as though being forced back to reality. She opened them again and looked to him. "Eliminating a royal tradition could take a long time to be accepted. A monarch never married a commoner before in all of Arus' history."

_Marriage_, Keith thought silently. He hadn't considered the future that far yet. He was not afraid of it. He felt destined to be a husband at some point in his life. Looking into Allura's blue eyes, he knew she was the right woman. One day he was destined to be her husband. He wondered how they would manage it when the time came. Would they still be hiding in shadows? It seemed so impossible. They could never keep a marriage secret. One day, Allura would bear children, and there would be no way to conceal that. He knew they had to find a way to confess their relationship eventually.

"Even if we could keep this secret, we both know that we would never find a cleric willing to remain silent about us," he said, his forehead coming from hers.

She laughed again, her hands moving to grasp his. "No. We're doomed to hide in a dirty, old cavern…" She suddenly stopped short.

"What?" he asked.

"My mother left me a room in the east tower of the castle," Allura realized. "I came across it last night. No one ever goes there. It is intended to be a sanctuary for me, a place for myself. We could use it to get away from here once in a while."

"Are you sure no one goes there?"

Allura thought about her findings yesterday. She didn't happen on the room by accident. She was being led there by the familiar echoes of her father and mother. It wasn't the first time they had given her guidance. It was their gentle presence that escorted her to the small vault above the fireplace mantle in the ballroom and allowed her to find the boxes they stored away for her with their letters and personal artifacts.

"I'm certain, Keith." She looked to him and wondered how much her departed parents knew about her relationship to him. "I know that my mother wanted me to find the room, and she wanted it to be for me and my uses only."

"Then, we'll have to change the code," he nodded. If Allura was confident in her feelings, he believed her. Since he met her, she had a way of taking silent guidance from her deceased parents, much as he was beginning to do with Voltron. After a moment, he offered, "A triangle can indicate the tower at dawn. We can use a crescent moon for night."

"That's perfect." Allura's smile spoke volumes of her happiness to be somewhere different. Her eyes sparkled in thanks. She rested her head against his shoulder, enjoying nothing but the feeling of Keith holding her. She could survive meeting with him in a forlorn, underground cavern, but the alternate setting offered a chance to see the stars above instead of imaging them. They could sneak a glance at sunrise and enjoy the beauty of Arus' landscape instead of rushing back to the castle before dawn broke.

Keith snuggled her against him and closed his eyes. He wondered again if he could ever be with Allura freely. He was wondering if maybe they should consider revealing their love. Then, he thought about Nanny. There was no telling what the governess would do to them. The last thing he needed was her contacting Galaxy Garrison and demanding his removal from Arus and that they send a new commander. He couldn't afford to take that chance, not after discovering Voltron. He had more reasons than he could have ever imagined for staying on Arus.

The familiar beep of Keith's time indicator echoed softly in the cavern, reminding them that dawn was creeping across the horizon. His shoulders slumped in defeat. They just couldn't steal enough time.

Allura sighed quietly, her fingers clutching to his back, trying to steal just a few more moments of the embrace.

"I miss you so much," she whispered with a tight voice.

His words were soft, his heartache evident in them. "I know."

Allura reluctantly raised her head from his chest. Keith cupped her face gently. He kissed her, knowing the moment had to end now. He forced himself to let go of her. He let his arms fall to his sides and took a step back. The longer he touched her, the harder it was to release her.

"Go," Keith said with regret.

Allura looked away from him and took a deep breath to force her emotions back into their dark closet in her heart. "I love you," she said before fading into the darkness of the cavern.

Keith closed his eyes. He was going to find a way. He was not going to allow Allura to continue experiencing love in shadows. Then, his eyes suddenly opened. If Lotor found out, he would do God-knows-what to Arus and its people. If Keith was going to keep Allura protected, he had no choice but to endure the agony of their time apart. They would have a future together some day. He needed to remain patient. He needed to keep his hope. It wasn't just an overbearing governess that blocked their happiness. They had an obsessive prince to hide from who could be much more deadly.


	8. Chapter 8

_Author's Notes_: Thanks again, everyone, for all your support and encouragement!! For the "anonymous" readers who have offered suggestions but have left no contact information to discuss the story "behind the scenes," I just wanted to say that I do have a mental outline, and it always included more involvement for a certain loveable lieutenant. ;-)

As always, no flames, please. However, I will accept constructive criticism in order to develop further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I own nothing. I make no money. I only write about what I enjoy.

The Waltz Continues

Chapter 8 – The Final Respite

Lotor pulled back on the stick within the cockpit of his personal combat fighter. He was relieved to be able to fly solo again. He hated being on the bridge of a warship. It was stuffy and too reserved. He felt like he was being scrutinized under the eye of every soldier onboard. He felt…trapped.

He was a leader who fought within the lines of battle, not outside of them. His father was notorious for being a great leader by staying safe in the distance, issuing orders and adjusting strategies. Lotor made his fame by being among the ranks. He took pleasure in watching his enemies disintegrate under laserfire. He felt satisfaction when an opponent fell from the blast of a weapon. And, he didn't do so from miles away. Often, he was up close, watching the life of his adversary snuff out before his eyes. It wasn't just a tiny flicker on a radar screen. It was personal, and it was what set him apart from the other Drule leaders.

Lotor rolled the fighter to his right. They would be breaking into Arus' atmosphere soon enough. He wanted to take a moment to view the planet from the far distance. He wanted a chance to savor the world he one day would own, the world he would rule with Princess Allura by his side.

Leveling the stick again, he stabilized the fighter. The four-ship fleet was starting to fall into position for descending into the atmosphere. He hated this part of an invasion the most. He could do without the shaking in the ship and having to constantly monitor the control board, making adjustments in order to keep from burning up in the descent.

Gritting his teeth, he held the ship steady with both hands on the control stick. The fighter rumbled beneath him, and its nose began to glow under the superheated gases. Lotor moved to adjust the heat shielding, his one hand gliding across the control board like second nature. He hated breaking atmosphere, but he was an expert at the process. Anything less and he would have become space debris a long time ago, burned up like a shooting star across the sky.

The Drule prince held the fighter steady for a few more moments. The rumbling around him started to settle, and the heat around him suddenly broke into thin clouds. The further he descended, the thicker the clouds became. He smiled at the luck. His targeted area was immersed in heavy overcast. It would conceal their invasion for a little while longer while the rest of the fleet cleared the atmosphere.

Lotor checked his gages and instruments. His fighter was fine, and the warships were following behind him. He took a moment to buzz past the warship bridges, doing a personal inspection on each of them. Scanning quickly, he saw that the Drule indoctrinates were at their stations awaiting the order to attack. They watched their screens with the patience of true soldiers.

His eyes caught the brown blur of Haggar as she sat patiently in one of the bridge chairs. He knew she would be in deep meditation during the attack. It was the only way she could concentrate on her robeast and work on discovering its flaw. Lotor hoped they could defeat Voltron on this attack, but he knew better than to be so cocky. Voltron had defeated him more times than he cared to admit. He wasn't going to keep making that mistake. It was not his way, but he truly needed to maintain his patience. Something about the current turn of events gave him the incentive to believe their fortune was finally going to change.

Lotor transmitted the coordinates to the fleet for the location of the highly populated town situated at the outskirts of the castle's territory. It was close enough to the Castle of Lions to get the Voltron Force's attention in a hurry and bring them out into the battle promptly.

"Launch the robeast," Lotor commanded. Then, he rolled his fighter off toward the town. He needed some target practice, and he found a few buildings that were just looking for a good laser blasting.

--- --- --- --- ---

Loud music filled the enclosed repair shop area, echoing throughout the nearly-empty space. Guitars full of intricate chords wrapped around each purposeful thud of the drum. The vocals belonged to a male with the ability to reach ranges on the scale that average musicians only dreamed to hit. The song itself had a remarkable rhythm. It was the type of music that easily brought the listener into the song, getting them hooked on the guitar rifts while subconsciously making them move their feet to the accompanying beats. Lyrically, the song spoke about a city on Earth. Metaphorically, the words referred to the city as a woman, a being with life of her own.

Hunk found himself lost among the musical weave of the song. He moved about the bay area, oblivious to everything. Without looking, the tools he sought seemed to jump into his hand. The panel he had been trying to remove for some time easily broke free. Hunk closed his eyes for a moment and felt the music within him. The song gave him memories of life back on Earth.

"I said, I can't concentrate on these schematics while you're blaring that stuff!" Pidge shouted, suddenly breaking Hunk of his groove.

Sighing regrettably, the Yellow Lion's pilot moved toward the music reader. He lowered the volume a couple notches. "You know, not everyone can stand to listen to a classical orchestra as often as you can."

Pidge smacked his forehead gently with his hand. "I never said I liked classical music. I said I like music played at a classical level."

Hunk shrugged his shoulders and grasped the wrench again. He now moved to the underside of the transport cart and started to loosen the bolts holding the undercarriage in place. He and Pidge had found the decommissioned wreck in the storage area where the pieces of the swing set they had collected were kept prior to the swing set being completed. The TransCar, as they called it, was just another project around the castle that the two of them decided to work on.

Pidge took care of analyzing the schematics and diagnosing the damage on the vehicle. Hunk applied his mechanical knowledge to a new extent as he worked on the engine and all the components that made up the motorized parts under the carriage.

Between the two of them, they had restored a number of decrepit devices that were once considered for a scrap heap. The TransCar was their greatest challenge so far. Before this, they revived a few hover cycles and a number of old generator boxes, which they donated to the people of Arus. Finding the TransCar, however, was like hitting a gold mine for the two of them. They decided to not just fix it up, but to make it into a vehicle they could use to cruise the streets of Arus in style. With some of Hunk's old contacts on Earth, he might still be able to find a few old car parts that he could use to customize the TransCar and give it an unusual design.

Pidge had tinkered with a few designs on a build program in the datapad he was using. They couldn't quite agree yet on the color scheme they wanted, but the overall conception of the TransCar was going to be unusual while at the same time having familiarity.

Pidge placed the small datapad he was using onto a table and walked over to the TransCar where Hunk was working. He looked up to see a cable wound around the exposed drive shaft. The engine casing was burned out from where sparks had caused obvious damage to the entire system.

Pidge whistled in disbelief.

"No one said the rebuild on this was going to be easy," Hunk mumbled as he pulled at the cable for a moment. "It looks like it got caught up in the initial attack on Arus. My guess is that the passengers bailed out and ran on foot, leaving it."

Pidge stepped over to look closer. His eyes widened for a moment. "What if we can't find working parts that fit in it? That's a pretty tight engine compartment."

"We'll make them fit. My buddy back home can find me anything."

"Anything, huh?" Pidge seemed skeptical. "I somehow doubt even the best junkyard could supply anything Arusian."

Hunk laughed. "It doesn't matter where the part's from. He's good at sizing up what we'd need just based on a schematic and dimensions." He smiled suddenly, with a sense of pride. "And, there's no vehicle I've worked on yet that I couldn't make run."

"God save Arus," Pidge laughed.

--- --- --- --- ---

Keith stared out the viewport window on the observation deck. The cloudy skies were growing more overcast. They were expecting a storm front to pass through the area throughout the day and into the night. It had gotten stalled in the northern area of the land and was finally starting to make its way towards their region. They had a couple hours yet before the storms would actually start, but the changing weather was imminent.

The Voltron Commander crossed his arms over his chest in a comfortable stance, looking forward to the changing weather. They had some bad humidity for the past few days, and it would be refreshing to have cool, crisp air again.

Scanning the distance, Keith's eyes passed over the Black Lion as it stood at its sentry post. The regal stance of the Lion spoke volumes for the spirit within it. He had been wondering how Lance fared yesterday when he ventured out solo. Keith had yet to find a quiet moment to question him about it. It wasn't a conversation he felt that could be shared in a room full of friends. Each of the team had to discover Voltron in their own time, their own way. If he forced the existence of the ancient spirit onto any of them, Voltron might not be receptive to the prodding.

He lowered his eyes for a moment and caught sight of Allura walking through the courtyard gardens they had been restoring. Her golden hair blew gently in the breeze and she walked as though savoring a moment alone. Her steps were slow and deliberate, trying to enjoy every second without having to study outdated lessons or fight against an enemy she grew to despise even more. She paused to look up at the changing skies and then went back to her inspection.

Keith watched as she made mental notes on changes or additions to the current garden plan. She looked about the pathways and the newly constructed swing set. She glanced over the benches. Her delicate but calloused fingers tested the sanded and varnished wood for splinters. Her gown brushed by one of the bushes, and a few leaves fell off it. Keith sighed quietly. It would be yet another plant that wouldn't adapt to the castle grounds.

"I don't know why you just don't tell her how you feel," Lance said. He moved to stand by Keith and leaned against the support beam by the glass window.

The commander turned to Lance. He hated lying, especially to his greatest friend. However, he wasn't sure he was ready yet to divulge his relationship with Allura to anyone. He had to keep her protected. "Protocol and Arusian law…"

"Not that crap again," Lance interrupted. "Look, I didn't come to see you about your love life or lack thereof. You and I ran that circle too many times now and we always get nowhere."

Keith felt strangely taken aback. He expected more harassing and tormenting. Apparently, Lance was truly growing tired of his excuses. At the moment, the lack of teasing made it much easier to talk. He decided it would be best to keep the topic anywhere but on the princess.

"The Arthurian Rose bush won't take," Keith commented, looking again at the sprinkling of leaves from where Allura's dress passed by.

Lance shrugged his shoulders casually. "At least we got the Butterfly Lillies she likes so much to grow."

"Somehow I get the feeling you didn't come here to discuss the botany of the Castle Gardens," Keith commented.

"Hey, I like talking flowers," Lance said. "They usually make a good impression on a lady. Oh wait, I forgot I'm not supposed to bring up that topic."

Keith shook his head. Maybe it was never going to end after all. Lance would always find some way to bring up Allura. In a way, he was glad they were keeping the relationship secret. It was something he had on Lance for once. In another way, it showed him that when the time came to reveal it, Lance would be the first person by his side.

"I guess it's your turn to tell me a story," Keith offered, hoping to finally find out how Lance's excursion to meet Voltron went.

Lance shot him a look. "You know I don't like people stealing my lines."

Keith laughed finally. "Since when did you get so sensitive?"

"Look, I agree that we've had some strange experiences around this place since we got here. And, you're right. I never would have believed you if you told me about Voltron."

He watched how Keith switched out of the jovial moment and back into commander mode. Lance hated how he did that. It was like observing a switch, and Keith was the only person he ever saw accomplish it so effortlessly.

Lance looked to Keith and knew the light moment had passed. The commander took the initiative to explain their findings as though they were still at the academy. "We've come across something even more amazing than mechanical Lions that interlock into a giant robot. There's an essence of life embedded in them. Voltron as a champion was more than just skilled pilots. It's not just a defender that we resurrected. We resurrected a ghost, a living being."

"Look, I'm not going to even try to explain it," Lance offered. "It's a bit unnerving now to think that I've got an invisible set of eyes watching me."

"You would think that. Always the skeptic, Lance."

"I didn't say I was against it, Keith. I'm just saying that it's going to take some getting used to. I thought I was flying a machine. Instead, I'm flying a…" he paused not quite sure how to describe it. "…A person?"

"Voltron is magic brought to life," Keith explained. "It doesn't make much sense to us, but the Arusian pilots who flew with him prior to us had knowledge we can't possibly possess."

Lance gave a short laugh. "I'd love to see Hunk's and Pidge's faces when Voltron finally spooks them for the first time. Those two believe in technology like it's a religion."

Keith nodded solemnly. "I know. I honestly wasn't sure how you would feel about it. You're handling this better than I originally gave you credit for."

"And, here I thought your confidence in me was etched in stone."

"I meant that I wasn't…"

"Hey, lighten up, Commander. You used to know a joke when you heard one."

Keith sighed quietly. Maybe it was time to finally confess to someone. He and Lance had always been close, despite their bantering. Lance was the nearest thing he had to family, and it wouldn't be the first time Keith was serious around his second-in-command. He knew that even though Lance could beat a dead horse when he was in the mood, he was also the most supportive person in existence. There was no one else who deserved to know about his love for Allura more than Lance. He would protect her with his life, not just because it was his duty but because of what it would mean to Keith.

"I know that look," Lance started. "Talk to me."

"I'm not sure where to…"

Sirens suddenly blared throughout the castle. Both men instantly became soldiers on high alert. Without thought, they turned and ran toward the control room.

--- --- --- --- ---

_Author's Additional Notes_: Hunk's song in the repair shop is "Jet City Woman" by Queensryche. I would like to personally thank my friend Jorge for allowing me to use his interpretation of the lyrics.


	9. Chapter 9

_Author's Notes_: Thanks again everyone for the continued interest! I especially wanted to thank PrincessAlluraP and the Official Voltron Forums. They provided me with a much-needed list of Lion weaponry. On a personal note, my baby boy is nearly seven months old now, and every moment with him is still a precious treasure. :-)

I hope I continue to do justice to the characters and the series of _Voltron_.

As always, no flames, please. However, I will accept constructive criticism in order to develop further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I own nothing. I make no money. I only write about what I enjoy.

The Waltz Continues

Chapter 9 – The Call of Duty

They all knew it was just a matter of time before Zarkon would send a robeast. Their respite for the past couple months had finally ended. They watched in silent horror for only a moment as the display screen in the control room showed the robeast attacking the town of Sanguine Valley. Coran didn't waste a moment as he keyed in the code that would raise the launch tubes from their hidden alcove below the command center. Time was of the essence and without delay Keith issued the order for them to enter the launch tubes.

Keith held onto the hand-tram, spinning down the familiar tunnel that led to his Black Lion's command chair. His mind played a dozen battle scenarios in a matter of seconds, and he had already begun to think of multiple strategies for them to employ against the robeast. He knew the Lions wouldn't hold out for long. With his Lion located closest to the attack, he realized he would need to distract the robeast long enough until the other four Lions emerged from their caves. Then, they would need to quickly get Voltron formed.

Landing in the command chair, Keith took a calming breath as the seat moved into position inside the Black Lion. Every time they went up against a robeast, he prayed they would quickly find its weakness and get back safe. There had been some close calls in the past, and he didn't know what he would do if he lost any of his team.

The five of them were meshed. When one would need a moment to recover from an attack, another would stand in their place. They understood how to protect each other, displaying in their actions what it was to be a wingman. When they became Voltron, it was like they instinctively knew which levers and buttons they had to activate to help move the giant robot against its opponents. The thought of losing any of them would be devastating. The thought of losing Princess Allura struck him with dread. It was more than just a duty to protect her now. She became his very existence. Their relationship was considered forbidden, yet somehow he felt no regret that he allowed it to happen.

Pushing aside his worries, Keith knew now was neither the time nor the place to allow his imagination to wander into dark fears. He had a battle that needed his undivided attention.

Resolving his determination to keep them all safe, Keith pulled the Black Lion's key off his uniform. He set it into the awaiting lock on the control board. The familiar ignition sequence began, and he watched his Lion come back to life.

_Commander, your sense of urgency forebodes battle._

Keith suddenly wondered how he would be able to talk to Voltron without having the others think he was absolutely insane.

_We both know that you cannot mute your companions during this conflict_, the voice said as though sensing his concern. _We can, however, communicate telepathically if you open your mind to me._

Keith looked out the viewport of his Black Lion's head. His hands instinctively landed upon the levers, and he felt his body settle comfortably into the command chair. He took a calming breath and knew he would have to drop all his emotional shields and mental defenses. He would have to allow Voltron the privilege of seeing into his very soul, into the places he kept closed away from everyone.

_Commander, your decision must be instant and pure._

Keith closed his eyes. It felt right. Communicating with Voltron through thoughts would be beneficial to the battle. The spirit would be able to see and feel in ways Keith's viewport could not. Concentrating on nothing but the magical presence around him, he felt his instincts and his mind open. He felt unnaturally vulnerable but strangely not alone.

_Can you hear me?_ Keith wondered silently.

**Yes, Commander. We do not have the time now for this connection to be perfected. It is possible that you will feel my strain in the battle as your own.**

_I understand,_ Keith said opening his eyes.

**If my presence becomes too much, close off your mind from me.**

_Just help me keep them safe,_ Keith thought.

**It is my duty.**

Keith took the controls and launched the Black Lion into its leap of faith. He had a job to do.

--- --- --- --- ---

Lance watched the activation sequence in his Red Lion as the power cells began to awaken the metallic beast.

"Come on, come on," he whispered hurriedly. His fingers fidgeted gently over the control levers. He had no doubt that Keith was going to start after the robeast alone. The commander was going to try and distract it from the village. It was part of Keith's damn self-sacrificing sense of duty. It was yet another trait Lance hated about him. But, he never was sure if his hatred was because he admired it so greatly in Keith or if he wished the man would be selfish just for once in his life.

Finally finishing the activation sequence, Lance charged his Red Lion out of the lava, trying to shake off the strange feeling of being watched.

_Lieutenant, I sense your anxiety with my presence._

"Damn, not now," Lance murmured, hoping no one else would hear him.

_If you want my presence, you need to open your mind. If not, I won't interfere._

"No offense…"

_Your wish is granted. Fight strong. Return safe._

Lance no longer heard the underlying orchestra within his Red Lion. The usual, but empty sound of mechanics filled the cockpit. He felt strangely alone, but it wasn't something he could dwell on at this time.

"I'm sorry," he sighed softly. Then, he turned his concentration onto navigating to Sanguine Valley. He had to prevent Keith from committing suicide.

--- --- --- --- ---

Hunk emerged from the underground cave. He felt his Yellow Lion run through the air with a sense of urgency. His hands moved about the controls, pushing the metal beast to its limits. He was the furthest away, and he knew that the others would do what they could to hold out until he got there. But, he was not about to let anyone down.

"Are you there, Little Buddy?" he asked into the open communications.

"Launching now," Pidge replied.

The Green Lion suddenly flew above the trees, sprinting over the emerald treetops as though the forest was level ground.

Pidge scanned over his positional monitor, trying to determine the locations of the rest of the team. He saw the Black Lion moving into position in front of the robeast. The Blue Lion had just surfaced from the castle lake and was following behind the Black Lion. The Red Lion was hurrying to make its way from the opposite side of the castle.

"I'm within a mile of the castle," Pidge reported.

"Then, I'm right behind you," Hunk said relieved. "Make sure they save me something decent. I'm itching for a good fight."

--- --- --- --- ---

Allura watched the water break over her viewport. The lake's crystal water cascaded down the protective glass like liquid ribbons. Her callused hands found their marks on the controls. She gripped the levers, using those calluses for a sense of meaning. She no longer cared what Nanny thought of her hands. Her heart was afire with the need to defend and protect. Her spirit was fueled by her desire to keep all her people safe. She was not going to allow Zarkon or Lotor the pleasure of taking any more Arusian citizens. Her approach to the battle was taken on a personal level. The robeast signified everything she hated about Doom and its hellish existence. She was not going to allow that hell to take root on her planet.

The Blue Lion took off under her command. She knew she was the closest to Keith's Black Lion. She could help him distract the robeast until the others caught up. She may not exude the cocky confidence that Lance had. She might not be entertained by a melee like Hunk. And, she may not have the analytical skills that Pidge did, but she was not giving up her world or the man she loved without a fight.

--- --- --- --- ---

Haggar sank into the cushion of the bridge chair, allowing herself to find a place of comfort and solitude. The Voltron Force had arrived. It was time for her to begin her meditation. She cared nothing about the indoctrinates surrounding the bridge or the quiet but proud presence of General Vaton who issued orders in his strict military manner.

Closing her eyes, she cleared her mind. Ancient words passed through her silent consciousness. The darkness around her started to fill in slowly. She sensed the empty hearts of the indoctrinate soldiers around her. Their lack of emotions left them cold and dark, nothing but shadows of potential life.

Haggar then felt Vaton. His knowledge and patience shined like a beacon around her. It left her with an unnerving sense of calm. He was sure of his decisions, and his precision with issuing orders was calculatingly cold.

The witch pushed her mind away from such a strong force, silently wishing that Lotor would one day become such a leader. Thinking of the Doom prince, Haggar sensed him outside of the warship. She caught a flash of him as he flew past in his fighter. He was a multitude of evil color. His life force shone with confidence, hatred, and lust. The prince exuded an impressive range of determination and conceit. His pleasure over the attack on the Arusian people was a sadistic game for him. He wanted to win that game and have his ultimate prize. Haggar could feel his blood boiling with dark desire for the princess. He wanted her at all costs, his hands longing to finally have her in his grasp. Yet, there was a twisted moment of nobility in his lust. Lotor would destroy everything around her if it took that much for her to finally give him the consent he yearned to hear just once.

The prince's complexity was something the witch could spend an entire day meditating over and still never understand. Concentrating harder, she had to move on. It was her robeast she needed to be studying, not Lotor.

Finding the armored terror she created, Haggar sensed within the creature primitive destruction and a need to protect those amongst the fleet that gave it life. The energy that flowed through the robeast was pure, strong. It held no egotistical desires. It merely wanted to stop its enemies from attacking it. The beast's heart pulsated without hate, but with a sense of obligation. It wanted to bring forth a victory against the enemies that swarmed around it. The robeast was grateful to be free of its cage on Doom. It believed its freedom to kill was a reward, something it earned.

Haggar suddenly sensed the self-righteous presence of the Voltron Force. They came to the battle with the intention to protect. Their emotions were driven on defending the Arusian people. Their focus came from the need to rectify their past mistakes with Ocean's Point. Abruptly, Haggar sensed a strange whispery presence, but it was gone before she could figure out what it was. With an inward sigh, the witch knew that presence was what she needed to seek. It was her missing link to the robeast's ability to defeat Voltron.

--- --- --- --- ---

Keith moved the Black Lion into position before the robeast. He instinctively ran his hands over the control panel. The Blue Lion was already forming up behind him. The other Lions were quickly making their way to Sanguine Valley. In his mind, he calculated the other Lions were only a few minutes behind them. He and Allura would have to convince the robeast to head towards the barren landscape that lay about five miles south from the castle grounds.

"Princess, we need to get the robeast's attention and get it to the Riverland Wastes," Keith explained.

Allura recalled how the Riverland Wastes was once a swamp-like territory that was full of life and water. Zarkon's repeated attacks on the land during his first assault on Arus burned the area of the river until there was nothing left but dry, cracked dirt. Lately, it became almost a battle zone, a personal arena, for their robeast fights. It was devoid of life and was solid ground for which they could fight equally. Lance often referred to the desolate land as the "Robeast Wastes."

Allura checked her internal monitor briefly for a status of the distance they needed to cover before they reached the Riverland Wastes. Looking back up, she instinctively moved her hands over the levers that controlled the Lion's flight in the air. The robeast's fist suddenly passed by the air where the Blue Lion had been hovering a moment ago.

"Fire ion laser cannon," she instructed. The weapon's apparatus materialized on the shoulder of her Lion and fired. Streaks of blue lasers shot toward the robeast.

Holding up its shield and stepping towards the Lions, the robeast safely deflected the attack.

"Launch missiles," Keith said. The Black Lion fired a number of small rockets toward the robeast. Then, Keith maneuvered the Lion into a backwards leap in the air. They had slowly managed to get the robeast out of the heart of Sanguine Valley where a couple small shops and the school had taken root. The robeast was now stomping its way through the residential sections, destroying homes and housing complexes.

Allura couldn't help her anger at the new wave of devastation the robeast was bringing to her planet. She prayed that her people made it to safety before the destruction started. She feared having to do another search for bodies after the battle.

Finding herself lost in thoughts that were distracting to this conflict, Allura pushed her anger aside in order to bring her focus back to the fight. She fired the ion lasers again and then brought the Blue Lion back into position beside Keith.

"I'm just nearing the Robeast Wastes," Lance cut in. Moving his hands across the control panel, he set up a weapon on his Lion. "Readying Lion torch."

"Copy, Lance," Keith acknowledged. "Try to get behind the robeast."

"Damn!" Lance suddenly complained as he realized the robeast had a third eye watching behind it, "I've heard of eyes in the back of the head but this is just repulsive."

Wasting no time, he fired the torch at the robeast's eye. The creature ducked, using the shield for a moment to protect its head. Keith and Allura took the opportunity to fire at the front of the robeast's legs. Their ion lasers hit harmlessly against the monster's body armor.

Lance scurried around the robeast, luring it further from the town. The robeast stepped after the three Lions, reaching out at one point to try and grab them.

"Here's a mouthful of spike bombs!" Pidge chimed in as the Green Lion flew into view. He whizzed by the robeast, landing the armaments against the robeasts's shield.

"Did you save me anything good?" Hunk asked as the Yellow Lion pounced into the fight with its rotary missiles firing.

Again, the robeast protected itself under the barrage of fire by using its shield.

**Commander, her people are clear from the monstrosity.**

Keith verified their position on the monitor's grid. They had managed to get the robeast about seven miles clear of Sanguine Valley. _Good,_ he thought._ Now, we can form Voltron._

Without warning, the Black Lion was unexpectedly slammed into the ground. Keith suddenly found himself crashing into the control panel. His helmet took the initial blow, but the pain which blasted across his forehead foretold of the bruise that would be evident later.

"Keith!" Allura shouted.

"I'm fine," he grumbled, trying to shake off the dull ache. "All of you, if you're not in your safety harnesses, get in them."

_What happened_? he wondered silently.

**The beast has not yet revealed its full potential.**

Before Keith could think of the next move, Pidge let out an agonized groan, his pain evident in the echo of his voice as it relayed over the communications. Hunk turned just in time to watch the Green Lion roll across the ground. As he was about to launch his next attack on the robeast, his Yellow Lion slammed hard into a mound of dirt.

"How is it doing that so quickly?" Lance wondered out loud.

Princess Allura pulled on the lever in her Blue Lion to rise higher in the air. As she did so, the robeast swung its shield toward her. She couldn't escape the invisible sonic push and found herself tumbling to the ground. She fought with her controls, but the hit was too severe. She felt her shoulders pulling against the safety restraints in her Lion. She tried to find humor in how Nanny would complain even more when the bruises from this fight would show. Then, her Lion finally landed with a hard crash. She opened her eyes to see the robeast turn back towards the other Lions as they recovered from their hits.

"Princess!" Keith called. He struggled against his heart's instinct to call her name.

Allura didn't remember screaming, but the dryness of her throat told her that somewhere in the midst of the crash she had.

"I'm all right," she said shakily, trying to push aside the disorienting hit.

**The robeast's shield, Commander, is both a defense and a weapon.**

"We can't take on that robeast separately," Keith explained. "We need to get clear so we can get Voltron formed."

--- --- --- --- ---

Lotor pulled his ship away from the village and decided to become a full spectator in the battle that lay out in the distance. He watched with fascinated awe as each of the Lions was knocked from the air, plucked like ripe berries off a bush and then thrown into the dirt.

His eyes watched with lustful interest the Blue Lion. He knew the princess was within it. He imagined her at the controls with hatred in her eyes at him and the Doom fleet. Lotor could feel his lips curl in a smile as he thought about holding her while she spit her venom at him.

_Just surrender your planet, and I promise you this can all stop_, he thought silently. _Give me Voltron and I won't have to attack your people again. Willingly come to me, and Arus will be protected under the Drule Empire_.

--- --- --- --- ---

"This thing is going to kill us," Lance complained as he tried to fire a barrage of ion darts into the robeast's feet. They still couldn't get far enough away from the robeast. Every time they thought they had cleared the robeast, it launched an attack with the shield forcing one of the Lions into the ground.

In their desperate attempts to slow down the robeast, they initiated a series orchestrated attacks. In one of those efforts, Allura launched her Lion's claws at the back of the robeast's neck. Lance fired the Lion's torch at the robeast's free arm. Keith sliced with his ion knife at the robeast's shielded arm. Hunk fired the rotary missiles at its legs, and Pidge used his spike bombs to attack from above. The robeast simply spun the shield around it creating a sonic bubble that knocked all the Lions onto the ground.

The robeast's tactics displayed a sense of annoyance at the Lions as it began to use the shield more as an offensive weapon rather than a defense. The monster lowered the shield momentarily while it pulled its sword free from the sheath at its side.

"It just grabbed its sword," Hunk reported.

"We need to move now." Pidge offered. "By my calculations, the robeast's movement to gather its weapon will buy us thirty seconds."

"Temporary retreat to the west," Keith ordered. "Now. We need to start the interlock sequence."

**Commander, I wish to apologize now for any inconvenience our connection may cause.**

_Just keep them safe_, he pressed. _I can't lose them…any of them_.


	10. Chapter 10

_Author's Notes_: Sorry for this very long delay!! As I previously noted, battles are not my forte, and I needed to research a few battle styles in order to figure out how to put into words the movie that plays in my head. Writing time also has dwindled to sparse 30-minute intervals during my lunch break at work. But, I will continue to do my best! For those interested in the baby update, my son's first tooth came in around October 1, and he has just reached the 8-month mark.

As always…

I hope I continue to do justice to the characters and the series of _Voltron_, and I ask for no flames, please. However, I will accept constructive criticism in order to develop further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I own nothing. I make no money. I only write about what I enjoy.

Chapter 10 – Warrior's Duel

"Activate interlocks," Keith ordered, issuing the first command of the preparation sequence that would bring Voltron into formation.

Lance watched the other Lions as they began to move into position. All the Lions began the shift into their normal places. Not a single Lion lagged. No one was too far in advance. He knew as well as they did that they all had only this one opportunity to get Voltron formed. His eyes passed over the Black Lion, and he couldn't imagine how Keith was maintaining his self-control. Lance couldn't stand being on the losing end of a battle, and he continued to suppress his immediate reaction to just run headlong into the robeast with all his weapons blazing.

"Dynotherms connected."

Hunk wished he could take back his earlier words about wanting a good fight. This battle was not their usual cat-and-mouse tease with a follow through on the Blazing Sword. They had been knocked down in the past, but they usually recovered quickly. Normally, they could still uphold a sense of humor at some point. Now, Hunk just wanted the battle over. This time, it wasn't fun.

"Infracells up."

Pidge analyzed his board with a much deeper intensity than he ever had before. He hoped that nothing would show up on his screens with an incomplete connection. He couldn't bear the thought now if the tiniest bolt loosened. They couldn't take any chances. If a hair fell into one of the mechanisms, he feared it could be the end of them. His eyes watched with an inability to blink as his mind anticipated each movement his Lion would make so that it would become the left arm of Voltron.

"Megathrusters are go."

Allura took a breath and prayed they would find this robeast's weakness soon. If they failed, her people would be destroyed or captured, only to be destroyed later in Doom's battle arena. The robeast proved its inability for compassion as it destroyed Sanguine Valley's buildings without any discretion. She had seen Lotor's fighter out in the distance, watching and assessing the battle. She knew he was laughing at their failure, taking pleasure in every successful attack the robeast landed against one of their Lions. She felt her anger build into an inferno of hatred for him. He had no right to harm her people and continue to destroy her planet.

In the moment when the Voltron Force usually verbalized their collective chorus of motivation, they instead took a shared breath. Each of them had prepared all they could. Now it was up to Keith to issue the command that would give them the control they needed to make their Lions become the respective parts of Voltron's body.

**I am ready, Commander.**

Keith pulled the control lever into a hard, vertical climb. He felt the pull of Arus' gravity force him backwards into the command chair. Through the viewport, the familiar lightning danced over the protective glass. They were all safe for the moment as the energy shield of Voltron's interlocking sequence protected them from being attacked.

"Form feet and legs," Keith instructed.

In Keith's mind, an image began to develop. It had never happened before during the formation of Voltron. He could only assume it was one of the experiences Voltron forewarned him about prior to the battle.

The spirit around him extended from his Black Lion into a growth that was invisible to the naked eye, but visible to the inner mind. Keith saw the magical energy that was Voltron grab onto the Yellow and Blue Lions. The two Lions became a pair of armored boots, tailored only for Voltron's spirit.

"Form arms and body."

In his consciousness, Keith felt arms extend outward, reaching for the Red and Green Lions. There was a sensation of the arms locking into the Lions. The two Lions became a pair of gloved gauntlets, with Voltron's magic extending out to the very fingertips.

"And, I'll form the head."

Warmth flooded up from Keith's chest into his skull. The warmth became a helmet of protection, but also a sense of clarity. He could see all around him. He was suddenly more attentive to the clouds above, the distant trees, and the town in the distance that they tried to save. He felt like a giant. He was aware of Voltron's feet landing firmly onto the ground. His perspective was overwhelming and dizzying.

_This is what you warned me about._

**Yes, Commander.**

Keith knew they couldn't waste any more time. He had to push past the disorientation.

"Sonic wave attack coming off the robeast's shield!" Pidge warned.

**We can stand strong for one hit.**

"Prepare for impact," Keith advised. He needed just one more moment to decide their actions.

The wave off the robeast's shield struck with the force of a tornado gust. Voltron wavered from the invisible push. Hunk and Allura secured the mighty robot by adjusting their stabilizers. Lance and Pidge scurried their hands over their control boards to get Voltron's arms steadied and prevent him from losing balance.

The robeast charged forward with its sword in hand, realizing its attack had done little to no damage. Keith's moment was over. The robeast was within a few hundred yards of them. He knew there was only one solution to the conflict. It was the way all their battles ended.

"Form…" Keith suddenly grunted as Voltron was slammed. He heard the others around him, fighting to maintain control. He felt his own hands pulling desperately on one of the levers, laboring to keep the enormous robot vertical.

**The robeast has deceived us. It raised its sword but swung the shield.**

"We need to get clear of that shield's range," Keith explained as he adjusted the compensators.

"At least a two-mile gap would get us the room we need," Pidge confirmed.

"Hunk, Princess, give us a leap of faith," Keith ordered.

"Working on it now," Hunk replied.

"We're adjusting the thrusters," Allura answered.

"No time!" Pidge shouted. "Incoming blade."

Hunk and Allura pulled the thrust lever in their Lions. Voltron vaulted back only a few hundred yards, but it was enough to miss the lethal strike of the sword.

"We have to do something!" Lance complained. He was tired of being beaten. "Give me something to attack with."

**Your Lieutenant is right.**

"Lance, Pidge, fire Lion Torches," Keith ordered. "Hunk, Princess, fire Sting Ray missiles. Then, launch us free and give us room."

"Finally," Lance sighed. He worked the control board without thought and sent a stream of flames toward the robeast. Pidge's Lion fired a whirlwind of air, igniting the Red Lion's fire into an inferno.

Hunk and Allura's Lions fired the missiles. Then, they immediately went back to the task of getting Voltron the safe distance they needed to form the Blazing Sword.

--- --- --- --- ---

Haggar continued to watch the battle in her mind's eye. She filtered out the explosions and the varying weaponry being utilized between the two enemies. She ignored the surprise and pride of the Drule soldiers around her. The witch's darkened spirit was one with the personal battle that was taking place in the dead lands of Arus.

She felt the whisper of a presence every so often. When it came, she had tried to pull all her concentration into it. She had to fight against the flustered emotions of the Voltron Force. Then, the presence became more pronounced and stronger. What she felt was not common of the human emotional range. It was strangely calm, experienced. The murmur was strong, a guidance in its own right. She delved deeper to try and listen to the words in the whisper. She listened attentively to the sounds. They were intricate, laced with ancient wisdom and…magic.

_Magic!_

Haggar felt her breath catch in her throat, and she struggled at the sudden revelation. She couldn't lose her concentration. She knew now what she felt. There was an ancient spirit assisting in the battle. She thought when she severed Voltron the first time that the spirit ruling within him had been dissolved.

Haggar realized that the spirit had managed to keep itself alive after all these years. She could only assess that it must have hibernated while the Lions slept for the years prior to being discovered. Now, the Voltron Force had unmasked a form of magic that could potentially change the tide of the war. Apparently, that spirit had been concealing its presence for a long time.

Haggar sighed in quiet regret. Her probing had given her confirmation that the robeast fighting Voltron would never win. The flaw she worried about so greatly had been revealed. The robeast didn't have what was needed to kill a magical spirit. However, on the other hand, her robeast's sacrifice had done just what she hoped it would. She knew exactly how to program her cloned robeast to finally take Voltron down.

--- --- --- --- ---

**Commander, the robeast charges again.**

Keith looked up. "Launch Electro-Force Cross!"

He pulled on the controls, feeling the others do the same. Every time they had managed to get some distance, the robeast would launch a sonic attack with its shield. They did all they could to keep Voltron from landing flat on his back. If they allowed that to happen, they would be as good as dead.

The robeast raised its shield. The cross harmlessly landed against the metal. Then it simply slid off.

"What the Hell?" Lance shouted. "That thing keeps blocking our attack."

"Move backwards!" Keith ordered.

Hunk and Princess Allura simultaneously shifted through a series of movements on their control panels. Voltron vaulted backwards trying to increase his position from the robeast. The robeast growled, bringing the sword across the robot's torso.

Keith gritted his teeth as he heard Voltron's shout of pain. He could picture the gash across the metal. His one hand instinctively touched upon his own stomach.

**Close your mind to me, Commander.**

_No, I'm okay._

Voltron moved to straighten. The robeast smacked the shield across the robot's head.

Keith fought off the haze of the strike to Voltron. He took the controls with a sense of determination. They couldn't let the robot fall to the ground.

Hunk dared to try something while the robeast was still in close proximity to them. He moved Voltron's leg so that it twisted behind and caught the robeast's calf. It helped to stabilize Voltron from falling and offered another tactic.

**Our Yellow Pilot has presented an opportunity.**

"Firing Eye Beams," Keith acknowledged as his hand moved to the series of controls.

The robeast tried to step back and protect its face from the weapons. As it raised its shield, it tumbled backwards, tripped by Voltron's leg. The entire maneuver, including the robeast's plummet onto the ground took no longer than a couple seconds.

"Fire Stingray Missiles!" Keith shouted. The robeast brought its shield around to block the missiles. However, it was enough of a hesitation that it gave the Voltron Force a chance to adjust their controls. Voltron suddenly leaped high into the air and flew backwards the equivalent of a few hundred yards. It wasn't the two-mile distance that Pidge originally calculated they would need, but with the robeast currently taking a moment to recover, Keith knew it was now or never.

"Form Blazing Sword!" he screamed. Time was of the essence, and they couldn't dwell any longer. It was only a matter of seconds before the robeast used the sonic attack again.

Keith felt Voltron's hands come together. Magical energy flowed between the Red and Green Lions, creating a tangible hilt. He felt the Red Lion take hold of the hilt, the feeling of it a perfect fit in Voltron's right hand. The Green Lion moved away from Red Lion, the magic between them stretching and strengthening. In bare moments, the elaborate blade had been created. It was something beautiful yet lethal.

Voltron brought the sword before him and raised it behind him, stretching. In a strange way it was like the mecha-robot had been reunited with a long lost friend. The bond between sword and warrior was complete. The blade was now an extension of Voltron's might.

Keith opened his eyes, suddenly realizing they had closed during the activation of the sword. His mind was overwhelmed with the feelings and images of an ancient battle art. He had his experiences with swords in his martial arts training, but it was nothing this intense. What he felt from Voltron was ancient chivalry, a form of combat that was long forgotten. Caught up in the technology of modern weaponry, the spirit of the warrior had been lost. Now, Keith felt that warrior's spirit. Voltron was the gallant knight from the stories he read as a child. No one was beneath Voltron's protection, and the mighty robot would damn anyone to hell who dared to oppose what was right.

"Keith! You'd better be breathing," Lance barked.

"Come on, Keith. Now's not the time to be playing," Hunk added.

Suddenly, pulling out of his strange reverie, Keith found himself hearing the voices of the others trying to get his attention again.

"I'm fine," he offered. "Sorry."

"The robeast is coming!" Allura shouted.

The robeast charged at Voltron. It swung its broadsword in a vicious arc. Lance ran through a series of commands on the Red Lion's control panel. Voltron responded immediately with a defensive block.

Voltron caught the robeast's weapon with the Blazing Sword. Sparks flew over the Riverland Wastes. As quickly as the two enemies engaged, their swords pulled back. It was merely two warriors striking for a test of strength and agility.

The robeast bared its teeth, fangs dripping with thick saliva. Voltron remained ready in a stance of patience and defense.

"Watch the shield," Keith instructed gently, strangely afraid that if he raised his voice too loudly the robeast would strike at them with that instead of the sword.

"Why is it just standing there?" Hunk asked.

_Warrior's Standoff_, Keith realized. Then, for a moment he wondered how he knew that.

**You can sense my thoughts as well, Commander. A Warrior's Standoff is an old tactic.**

"It's an intimidation tactic," Keith explained, the knowledge easily a part of him as much as it was Voltron. "One of us will move. When we do, it must be swift and assured."

"Yeah, well, I'm sure I want this thing dead," Lance grumbled. His fingers fidgeted above the controls, just waiting for an excuse.

Without warning, but as expected, the robeast rushed forward. Its sword came from the side attempting to slice into the Green Lion.

Lance shut down everything around him and put every ounce of concentration into controlling the Red Lion. Voltron's right arm moved smoothly in front of the robeast's blade and blocked the strike with the Blazing Sword.

Then, the duel began. The robeast arced left and right, up and down. The broadsword slashed in a disciplined and experienced manner. The Voltron Force maneuvered Voltron as best they could. They never really had the opportunity to duel a robeast. Their usual experiences consisted of firing the missiles and other weaponry, using the Blazing Sword for just the final strike.

Moving Voltron required their collective concentration. They had to think defense and offense at the same time. They had to watch the robeast's moves and prepare to block the strikes. They had to plan ahead to find an opening in the robeast's attack so that they could launch an offensive of their own.

The clatter of the swords echoed throughout the Riverland Wastes like metallic thunder. Occasionally, the weapons would strike with an exceptionally powerful hit causing glittering debris to fly off the sharp blades.

Keith felt an exhilarating freedom in Voltron that he had not expected the robot could experience. Voltron had developed an ability to not only move with the commands he was given from the pilots within him, but his magic allowed him a grace that seemed uncharacteristic from a mere robot.

Voltron slid under the robeast's sword and brought up the Blazing Sword, connecting and defending the attack. He spun on the strength of the robeast's attack, softening the blow. Keith could picture the duel clearly in his mind as though Voltron's eyes were his own. It was a beautiful and deadly dance, one he had never seen before. They fought with a style that was entirely unlike any of his martial arts experiences. It resembled a strange combination of two giant Samurai warriors fighting with the colossal strength of Vikings.

Time seemed to stop while they were engaged in combat. Neither the robeast nor Voltron dared to back down and neither one had the opportunity to get the upper hand. The battle grew fiercer and stronger. The speed at which the blades struck grew blinding and dizzying. Not a sound was expelled from any of the Voltron Force. They had fallen into some kind of concentrating trance, refusing to think of anything but moving their hands over their control panels, keeping Voltron alive and fighting.

Then, in Keith's mind, he saw the image they needed. Somewhere amidst the duel, the robeast's armor had developed a split in one of the buckles along its ribcage. The buckle hung about, no longer secured tightly. It was their only chance.

The robeast's sword slammed hard into the Blazing Sword. Voltron held steady, digging his feet into the ground trying to maintain purchase.

With unseen strength, the robeast pushed hard, forcing Voltron into a slide.

"Ion Darts," Keith said as his hands moved to the control and activated the weapon.

The robeast instinctively brought the shield up to cover its face.

Voltron sensed the opportunity the commander presented. Working as one, the Voltron Force and Voltron brought the Blazing Sword around to the section of the armor with the broken buckle. The Blazing Sword stabbed hard into the open armor. The robeast's head flew back in an agonized roar.

Then, the robeast slid to its knees. The robeast's weapons slipped from a numbed grasp as its arms fell to its sides. Voltron pulled the Blazing Sword from the robeast's damaged ribcage and stepped backwards.

The robeast oozed an extensive amount of fluid from its wound. Then, as expected, an explosion erupted from within its body. Voltron turned from the violent blast as mechanics and flesh scattered over the Riverland Wastes. It was yet another robeast that would become part of the graveyard that the land had become.

--- --- --- --- ---

Haggar fell out of her meditation. Her body slumped in the cushioned chair, exhaustion eating away at her very being. Her head fell against the high-backed chair, and her breathing came in heavy gasps. As her eyes stared up at the gray, metal ceiling, she wished to be able to cackle with utter glee. However, she needed her strength elsewhere in order to keep from falling forward onto the deck.

The witch smiled instead in silence. She had one of the missing pieces to the puzzles that surrounded her. In all her experimentation, she never once thought of the possibility that Voltron's magical spirit was still living within the metal flesh. Destroying him would be much simpler now that she knew his secret.

"Witch! Answer me," Lotor's voice echoed throughout the ship's bridge.

"Yes, Sire?" she asked weakly.

"I called the retreat. You better have what you needed."

Haggar laughed softly. "My Prince, I have just discovered how to defeat Voltron for certain."

Lotor snorted, "I've heard that one before."

The witch smiled under her cowl. She was not going to argue with him. If Lotor wished to believe it was just another of her unsuccessful plans, then she had no problem with surprising him during their next battle.

--- --- --- --- ---

"Did we do it?" Hunk asked.

Pidge scanned over the monitors and then looked out over the land. "I think we did."

"About damn time," Lance grumbled. "We could do with a few less robeasts of that caliber."

"Keith, are you okay?" Allura asked.

_Voltron, you're woun_ded, Keith thought silently.

**I can be mended. It is superficial. My spirit continues to flow strongly.**

"I'm fine, Princess," Keith responded. With the battle having ended, he realized it was difficult to maintain separate thoughts.

**Tend to them for now, Commander. We can talk when your Black Lion is upon its perch again.**

Keith closed his mind to Voltron. He felt a quick wave of dizziness as the connection severed. Then, he felt oddly normal and insignificant without the sensation of heightened awareness and body armor.

"Launch deactivation sequence," Keith instructed.

The Lions began to disengage. The Red and Green Lions separated first followed by the Yellow and Blue Lions. Then, the five Lions converted back into Lion form, becoming five separate parts again.

"Let's head home," Keith said, realizing for the first time since he struck it earlier that his head was in agonizing pain.

--- --- --- --- ---

Keith watched the others separately return to the Lions' dens. Pushing past the annoyance of the headache, he landed the Black Lion upon its perch. He hesitated before taking the ride back to the Castle of Lions' control room. He remembered that Voltron said they would talk again once he was alone.

"We can start repairs first thing in the morning," Keith offered to the empty air.

The symphony of Voltron's spirit filled the cockpit again. _That will be sufficient. We all need rest tonight._

Keith sat for a moment studying the peaceful countryside through his viewport. He believed that connecting to Voltron helped them greatly today. Now, he needed to know to what extent Voltron knew about him.

"Our connection was more than just pilot to machine," Keith said. "How much have you learned about me?"

_Your emotional wounds are old, caused by circumstances you could not control. Your guilt about your family's disappearance supersedes your logic._

Keith looked blankly down at the control board.

_However, she heals you_, Voltron noted. _The royal sovereign of Arus is your cure. But, shadows and fear block your path to joy._

"Our love is considered forbidden. There are laws and protocols we hide from."

_You refer to the "Law of Royal Unity" created by the ancient Arusians in a long, forgotten time. It was very different then._ Voltron paused as though taking a moment to remember his past. After a few seconds, his ethereal voice sounded sad. _Arus is dying. Unity should no longer be just monarchies and governments._

"But, with the current laws, Allura would lose her title and her power as Arus' ruler."

_I believe she knows that. She is aware that the Arus of old has died._

Keith sighed quietly. Voltron had absorbed everything about him in that battle.

_Start a new life, Commander. Your past cannot be changed, but your future is unwritten._

"I can't let Allura lose her position as princess."

_Your words betray your compassion for her. Your spirit is complete and cured of its agony while in her presence._

Keith looked up for a moment from his inner turmoil.

Before Keith could argue another point, Voltron concluded his discussion. _Farewell for now, Commander. Rest well._

Silence fell throughout the Black Lion, and Keith knew then that the conversation was over. He touched a button on the console, and the command chair began its release. Keith's ride back to the castle started, and he cleared his thoughts in preparation for the battle debriefing he would have with Coran.


	11. Chapter 11

_Author's Notes_: Chapter 11 was originally an entirely different part of the story. However, it became necessary to add the battle debriefing scene, and the scene that was here has been pushed back to Chapter 12. Since Chapter 11 and 12 were edited nearly simultaneously, I expect to post Chapter 12 very soon. It just needs some final polishing.

On a personal note, by age nine months, my son has acquired his two front upper teeth as well as his two front bottom teeth. He's still chewing everything constantly so I suspect the rest of his teeth will continue to appear, all within a short period of time between each.

As always…

I hope I continue to do justice to the characters and the series of _Voltron_, and I ask for no flames, please. However, I will accept constructive criticism in order to develop further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I own nothing. I make no money. I only write about what I enjoy.

Chapter 11 – Revelations and Fantasies

"If you ask me, Haggar really knew what she was doing this time around," Hunk started. "That robeast was equipped with some pretty heavy weaponry."

Lance traced his fingertip over the smooth tabletop. "I still say that an eye in the back of the head is just hideous."

Pidge perked up for a moment, his eyes shining in technological awe. "And that shield! I wish we had something like that."

Coran nodded quietly. His eyes passed from Allura at the head of the table to Keith who sat on her left. Then, he looked to the others as they surrounded the table. Lance, as usual, was beside Keith. Hunk sat at the far end of the table with Pidge between him and Coran. While sitting casually, the advisor could easily see the connection among the Voltron Force that went beyond combat camaraderie. Since their arrival on Arus, just over a standard year ago, they had grown close and became a true band of brothers. They taunted each other playfully and argued the validity of their opinions, much as any other family would. Everyone on the team carried themselves with a posture that spoke of their comfort and friendship.

The elder statesman felt a wave of regret as his past suddenly haunted him. He could remember having his own similar experiences when he was once the advisor to King Alfor. The king wisely chose men and women who would argue without malice and collectively seek the betterment of Arus and its people.

Coran looked down to his folded hands, suddenly realizing just how old they looked. It was the first time he had ever noticed the wrinkles that had begun to develop and the damage they had taken in the years since the beginning of Doom's invasion. Sometimes it was difficult for him to believe that he had spent over a standard year helping these young men protect Arus. Now that he actually took a moment to slow down and study the Voltron Force, he realized the thirty-year age difference was considerable. For all Coran's knowledge and experience with diplomacy, he was never trained as a soldier. His survival and that of the princess was purely based on instincts and a fatherly need to protect Allura. Coran gave these Earthen men of the Voltron Force much credit for the continued survival of Allura's planet and her people. One aging man and one young princess just weren't enough to sustain Arus' long-term existence.

Glancing at Princess Allura, Coran also realized that she had matured in a way that went beyond the expectations of her station. Ten years ago, Coran's vision for her was waltzing at banquets and sharing her arm with nobility and men of position. He even foresaw her sitting upon her father's throne approving and denying the legislature of the planet. He thought she would reward the bravest of soldiers with titles and royal gifts. He expected to sit beside her, offering the counsel she needed after he had argued and agreed with his cabinet of fellow advisors.

Now, as she sat at the head of the small conference table, he saw a woman entirely different and so much stronger. The familiar, but formal, pink gown that Nanny insisted she wear to this miniscule conference gave Allura a stature of confidence and a bearing of regal strength. Coran knew that it was the Voltron Force who brought such certainty to her. The Earthen men surrounded her as though a shield. Their strengths filled in her weaknesses and her strengths filled in theirs.

Allura's blue eyes, the color of azure sapphires, shone with determination and conviction. She knew that Arus belonged to her, yet underneath that fire and strength, he saw the simple woman who merely wanted to be happy. Beneath her royal shell was a young woman seeking comfort and love, compassion and concern. Although she knew the burdens of her station, she also longed to be free of them.

Coran dared to close his eyes for one moment. King Alfor had brought the quiet affair between Allura and Keith to his attention. The former king merely asked the advisor to watch over them and keep them safe. Coran wondered why Alfor so easily allowed his only child, the one being on the planet of any royal bearing to pursue a commoner.

_Is she not allowed to love and be loved?_ Alfor had replied when the question arose. The former king had also pointed out that with Allura's burden of being the last royal Arusian, the bloodline would thin out regardless of whether her suitor was from a royal family or not. Alfor admitted that he couldn't bear to see his only child unhappy for the rest of her life, not after having survived the near annihilation of her planet. It would almost seem punishable and without justification to force Allura into sharing in a loveless union.

Coran tried to argue about Arus and its survival without a royal figure. He insisted that the people would lose faith in Allura if she carried no title.

Alfor was compassionate to Coran's concerns. However, even the once-great king of Arus understood that the past had died, and the era of royalty was coming to a close. He insisted that Coran begin the pursuit for other methods of leadership as it might be time to consider adopting a different form of government. Alfor simply was not going to punish Allura in a convenient marriage at this point in her survival.

Coran relented the argument then and had spent a number of hours one night reading up on various democracies, researching citizenship voting, and understanding different ways to organize a parliament or congressional committee. He was less-than-thrilled with such entities and found himself longing for old memories and old friends who were long gone.

"Coran?" Allura asked gently. She suddenly realized her foster father had missed some of the discussion, and his eyes had glazed over while staring at nothing.

The princess' voice returned Coran to the present. He shook his head gently and smiled after a moment. "Forgive me, Princess, I was walking down the path of the past. I'm sorry. It shouldn't have happened during this important discussion."

Allura put a gentle and reassuring had upon Coran's shoulder. "If your memories were of my father and his reign, do not apologize. He would be honored you still think so highly of him."

"Look, I don't mean to break up such a touching moment," Lance prodded, "but the reality is that if you still want such touching moments, we need to be here and now discussing this robeast."

Keith raised his eyes and looked around him quickly. Each of the members of his team showed some kind of injury from the day's battle. Hunk had new blisters on his hands. Pidge showed a fresh cut on his cheek. Lance's shoulder had been wrenched, and he was advised to take it easy for a couple days. Allura had considerable swelling and the start of a bruise on her neck near the collarbone. Keith was fighting the affects of a constant headache from a slight concussion.

Without a doubt, it was one of their worst battles, and it showed on every one of them.

Taking a deep breath, Keith knew it was time to finally bring forth the discovery he had been holding in for too long. The moment had come for him to reveal to the rest of the Force Voltron's existence. He had no choice, and he knew Voltron would understand as well.

"There was really only one thing that saved us in this fight," Keith started, his voice gentle yet authoritative. The others suddenly found their attention drawn to him. They all knew that he reserved that tone of voice specifically for information that was vital and necessary.

Keith gradually moved his eyes around the table as he spoke, looking at each of his team with certainty and respect. "Voltron's spirit inhabits our Lions. He and I merged our thoughts during today's battle and if we hadn't done so, I do not believe we would be sitting here talking about it now."

Pidge spoke up first. He shook his head disbelieving. "Skipper, with all due respect, you took a pretty hard hit to the head."

"Yeah, I'm no doctor, but I know that blunt trauma can affect the senses," Hunk added.

Allura looked at Keith. The ancient Arusian voice she had heard during the training session so long ago was real. _Guard this love._ Allura's emotions for the commander surfaced momentarily, and she fought them back with all her resolve. Voltron truly was alive, and it was that spirit who knew of her relationship to Keith. The mystery of the voice had finally been uncovered.

Lance spoke up before Hunk and Pidge could further their teasing against Keith.

"Keith is telling the truth," the second-in-command sighed. "Remember when I ran solo on that early morning target practice? Well, I took out Red Lion to see for myself."

The princess felt a lump suddenly in her throat. The death of the spirit was a question for many years. To know Voltron was still a part of the Lions and had not perished in the initial separation was a miracle. "What did Voltron say to you, Lance?"

"He spoke very personally to me, like he understood me instinctively. It was a short conversation but very revealing."

"This is excellent," Coran acknowledged. He then turned to Hunk and Pidge. "The two of you must open yourselves to Voltron. If he has allowed Keith and Lance to feel his spirit, then a connection no truer has been established. It has been far too long since any pilots were graced with Voltron's existence. You should consider it an honor and even more so because you are not of Arusian descent."

Coran then turned to the princess. "Highness, you, especially must earn his trust. As ruler of Arus, Voltron must know that you have only his and Arus' best interests at heart."

Allura wanted to tell everyone about her momentary brush with Voltron, but she knew still she had to refrain from such a discussion. "I will be sure to do so the next time I am in the Blue Lion."

Hunk shrugged his shoulders. "Who am I to question an Arusian paranormal? What's the worst that can happen?"

"You get slimed!" Pidge joked.

"Please, I'm trying to be serious," Keith sighed. "You're making light of an ancient and foreign culture we do not have enough knowledge about. It's insulting to the princess."

Allura smiled to the others. "I'm not offended. All I ask is that you withhold judgment of what you don't understand for now. Voltron's spirit could be our greatest ally, and gaining that trust could ultimately change the tide of this war."

Hunk and Pidge replied, "Sorry, Princess," practically in unison.

Coran tapped a button on a panel imbedded in the tabletop. "Commander, I believe you wished to do a walk-through of this battle to see what can be improved."

--- --- --- --- ---

"Tell me, Witch, was your scavenger hunt productive?" Zarkon asked.

The king of Planet Doom sat at his business desk once again sharing a clandestine meeting with Haggar. Instead of reading dusty tomes of his past or signing execution orders, this time Zarkon had made himself productive. He sketched out a mock battle plan on a piece of paper, trying a different strategy than the one he originally used during the invasion of Planet Nella over seventy years ago. He realized in his sketch that if he had looped his fleet around to the western hemisphere instead of maintaining a northern attack, they potentially would not have lost two warships.

The witch glanced down at the papers before Zarkon. She recognized his battle strategies but decided not to question his current motives for working on them. Apparently, his highness had been in a nostalgic mood recently, and it was not hers to question.

Haggar felt her smile peer out from under her dark hood. Her internal glee was radiating with abnormal cheerfulness. She felt young and giddy again, something she hadn't known in far too many years. Perhaps, Zarkon's nostalgia was starting to spread.

"More than I could have ever hoped," she cackled.

Zarkon pushed aside the sketches, grumbling with impatience. "Out with it, Haggar! What did you learn?"

"Voltron's spirit still lives," she explained as she sat closer to the edge of the chair, leaning forward. "I had thought it was destroyed when it was separated originally into the five Lions. But, I felt it. This means now that our failures are not because of a lack of a plan. Our failures are because we have not been trying to kill the spirit. We have been attacking Voltron as though it was an object."

"Then, what is your plan now?"

"I am working toward a way to see that Voltron is killed, not just destroyed. If the spirit can be killed, Voltron and Arus will fall."

"You know I will not tolerate any more failures. I feel we've had this conversation far too many times."

"Then, I will hold my promises until after Voltron's defeat is ours," Haggar smiled.

Zarkon nodded quietly. "And, what of Lotor's betrayer?"

"The echoes of a traitor still surround him. The sensations have not increased nor have they lessened. It is still imminent. I do not know when or how he will be betrayed. It is still somewhere in the future and not close enough for me to touch."

The king sighed. "Sometimes I wonder if I would be his betrayer. There are so many times I wish to throw him in the Pit of Skulls or have him executed before me."

Haggar stood to take her leave. "What you feel, my Liege, are the instincts of a father."

Before Zarkon would even think of something to say, the witch was gone. _Father_. He scoffed at the word. He never wanted a child other than to take over his empire. He had no desire to teach another being about the world or life. Zarkon merely wanted to enjoy his empire and then have it pass along so that it would live forever. It was his wife who nurtured Lotor during his early years. She was far too lenient and kind to the boy. Had Zarkon been around more, Lotor wouldn't have a complex with his mother and that of a pretty face.

--- --- --- --- ---

Lotor swirled the blood-colored wine slowly in the gold-stemmed glass. He stared with boredom as the potent liquor rolled up past the decorative claws just missing the lip of the goblet. He paused the motion for a moment, watching the wine spill down the insides of the glass. He imagined briefly that was it was the blood of the Voltron Force. He often daydreamed about what it would be like without them around anymore, ruining his plans. He smirked at the thought of bronzing the commander's head and having it stored on public display.

Lotor took a sip of the wine, deciding what else he could do with the Earthen men. He frequently toyed with fantasies of their demise. This time he opted for a couple different scenarios. The little one, Pidge, would first have his kneecaps shattered. This way he wouldn't have a chance to do his acrobatics and get away. The big one, Hunk, would have to be taken down immediately and permanently. Lotor caught himself smiling at the thought of blasting him away with a cannon. The second-in-command, Lance, would have his tongue removed before being hung by his ankles, slowly starving to death.

The prince of Doom sat back in his chair now, watching the wine again. He had plans for the commander, Keith, and had been working on them for a long time. There was little deviation to the way in which Lotor wanted to exterminate him. Lotor would start with forcing Keith to watch his friends go through their demise one by one. Subsequently, Lotor would make sure the commander was left helpless while Lotor took Allura as his bride. When Lotor would finally be satisfied that Keith had starting losing his mind, he would have him publicly disemboweled.

Allura would be forced to watch them all perish, her punishment for not taking Lotor's offers sooner. Then, she would have no choice as her planet was finally annihilated, and Lotor would use her to bring his heirs to the throne.

The prince looked out past his glass, the boredom suddenly erased from his face. The concubines had started a different dance routine than what he was accustomed to seeing. There was a woman among them with long, blonde hair. Her face was partially covered by a veil, but the blue, slightly revealing dancer's outfit that wrapped around her accentuated her curves and milky white skin. Lotor felt his breath catch wondering when Allura had managed to be captured without his knowledge. Then, he saw the green eyes.

Lotor settled back into his chair and resumed the fantasy of killing off the Voltron Force. He knew which concubine he wanted tonight. Pleasure lust was one thing. However, he would need to make a trip to the torture chamber to entertain his bloodlust once again. There was always a slave trying to escape, and he loved trying new ways to inflict pain and agony on the idiotic beings who thought they could break free.

Drinking the wine quickly as though it were a shot of hard liquor, Lotor stood from his chair. He placed the glass onto a nearby table and moved toward the group of concubines. He reached out and grasped the wrist of the green-eyed blonde.

"The rest of you are dismissed," he commanded.

It was time to satisfy the first of his cravings.


	12. Chapter 12

_Author's Notes_: As how I usually begin my notes and chapters, I wish to thank all the readers and reviewers for their continued interest. This chapter was written over a year ago with the intention to be a one-shot. However, as "The Waltz Continues" progressed, it became necessary to rework this scene into this story rather than be a one-shot. Additionally, this chapter was inspired by the music of John William's _Across the Stars_ from "Star Wars: Attack of the Clones" and the lyrics to Bon Jovi's _Livin' in Sin_.

May you all enjoy a wonderful and safe Holiday Season! See you in 2008!

(Just FYI, in case anyone is curious…my musical inspiration for the character of Voltron' spirit is _Freedom Theme_ by James Horner from "Braveheart.")

As always…

I hope I continue to do justice to the characters and the series of _Voltron_, and I ask for no flames, please. However, I will accept constructive criticism in order to develop further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I own nothing. I make no money. I only write about what I enjoy.

Chapter 12 – A Common Promise

While sitting at the engraved desk in the hidden tower room, Allura found herself absently reading through the science fiction-fantasy story that Lance assured her was so magical. The dull ache from her bruise started bothering her again, and Allura forced herself not to rub the injury and irritate it further. Reaching behind her neck, she decided instead to remove the decorative necklace that she usually wore while in her pink gown. Taking the small ice pack Nanny had made for her, she gently touched it upon the swollen injury.

Allura sat back in the chair and closed her eyes lightly. Her thoughts filled again with the debriefing they had with Coran earlier in the evening. The simple dissection that was planned for the methodology of the robeast's attack had turned into a revelation that Voltron was still alive. It was just as the old tales promised, telling about Voltron's spirit living within the Lions. It was a miracle, and it was what they needed in order to move on after such a hard battle. Allura felt renewed confidence in succeeding against the Drule knowing that she would be fighting alongside the spirit of an ancient warrior.

The princess opened her eyes looking at the text in the book. She removed the ice pack and found herself wondering about when Keith would meet her. She lifted her eyes, unable to concentrate any longer on the story of the smuggler and the princess leading the rebellion. Normally, she would have found the tale entirely intriguing, but tonight her only thoughts were on Keith. They had fought a tough battle earlier in the day. None of them walked away without injury, but in the end Voltron finally managed to destroy the robeast.

Allura stood from the desk in the room. She passed by the bed that had seen very little use. The sheets were still a pristine peach color. The sheer canopy draping over it had collected minimal dust in the abandoned room, thanks to her father's cleaning robot. The princess looked out the small window, listening to the rain hit the glass. The flash of lightning brightened the night, followed by thunder that cracked in the distance. The changing weather that had been so imminent earlier in the day finally reached the castle, and the storms were expected to go on through most of the night.

The door opened softly behind Allura. Her heart swelled with joy, and she hurriedly turned. Keith closed the door behind him, securing the lock. The princess was certain that no one knew of this room, except for her parents when they agreed to create it for Allura. However, she and Keith were not going to take any chances in case Nanny went on a snooping spree.

Allura moved toward Keith, and she pulled him into a deep kiss. The two of them have been finding it even harder to walk away from each other in the last couple weeks. They had begun to feel an intensity in their relationship that was growing considerably. Their time alone was even more precious and needed.

Keith returned her kiss without reservation. His hands came around her back, his fingers grasping her long hair. He needed to be certain this moment was real and not a dream he was having after falling unconscious in the battle. He felt her fingers clutching to the arms of his uniform material, and he knew she was proving his existence to herself as well.

Growing breathless, they gently pulled away from the embrace. Their eyes met, hands coming together before them.

A clap of thunder echoed in the room. The storm was moving closer, and the rain slammed harder onto the glass.

Allura closed her eyes for a brief moment. Then she looked to the flashing outside the window. "We might not have survived today's battle if Lotor waited until this storm hit."

Keith pulled her tighter against him. "Let's not think like that. It was a dangerous battle, and we survived. We will be sure to be more prepared next time."

Allura allowed him to hold her. She saw the reflection in a small mirror of a bolt of electricity that spidered through the sky. It was beautiful in its deadly glory. The white-blue streaks were an endless pattern that was quilted throughout the night's darkness.

"Will we ever be more than secret meetings and midnight kisses?" Allura asked sadly.

Keith was brought back to the conversation they had a while ago in which he tried to lightly joke about them meeting in the cavern when they both had grown old. His conversation with Voltron after the battle never left his thoughts. He knew Allura was the one person who made him forget about his haunted past, and he needed her.

"Tell me how we can be," he replied. He would walk unprotected through the fires of Hell if it would allow them to be together without fear of Lotor or ancient laws and protocols.

"I could give it all up…my title, my position," she said quietly, almost afraid that the ghost of her father might hear her. "I'm more a pilot than a princess anymore. We both know it."

Keith took a soft breath. He stepped back from her and held her at arms' length. Her long hair was in its usual braid around her head, and the crown of her station was placed perfectly above her forehead. Her heavy gown fit her perfectly, designed for a woman who would be the leader of Arus. She was elegant and strong. Her eyes were filled with hope for the planet and her people but lonely and sad for what she was never supposed to have. The bruise that spread from her collarbone to her neck signified the lengths she would endure to protect her planet and her fellow pilots. It was one of the things he admired so greatly about her.

_Unity should no longer be just monarchies and governments._ Keith tried not to dwell too much on the conversation he had earlier with Voltron, but the words between them just kept repeating in his mind.

"Voltron knows about us," Keith said, taking her hands now, trying to change the subject.

"He has told me as much," she admitted. "It was only a brush of his voice that I heard one day, but he said a great deal."

_She is aware that the Arus of old has died._

"You don't believe that Arus can be restored to its past," Keith told her, purposefully not making it a question.

"The past was about ceremonies and festivities," she explained. "Rewards were earned and banners flew in triumph of peace. Nobility paraded around with their extravagances and gossip. Warriors were used for bodyguards. The common people of Arus were not as close to their leaders as they are to us."

Allura paused, realizing that the thunder was still rumbling outside as an unusually loud clap rattled the window.

"There is no restoring that with only one royally-bred woman. If I married another prince, Arusian culture would be lost just the same. No one realizes that a foreign prince would bring his traditions here, expecting us to adhere to them. Those traditions would then become merged with ours until Arus had nothing of its own anymore."

Almost as an afterthought, Allura sighed. "You and the others have been so respectful of our ways and our traditions. I wish Nanny would understand that."

Keith could no longer argue the validity that Allura needed to maintain her position as princess. She knew what keeping it would cost. To her it was merely a title. She would fight for her people and her planet as a pilot would for his squad mates.

_Start a new life, Commander. Your past cannot be changed, but your future is unwritten._

"How can we be more than we are now?" he asked gently.

Allura breathed slowly. She had thought about this for a long time. "A Commoner Unification."

"Even in a Commoner Unification, there is one witness," he tried to reason.

"I know," she agreed. "If we unify under the commoner ceremony without a witness, we will only marry for ourselves. The purpose of the witness is to merely have the marriage documented as a public record."

"But a secret marriage doesn't change the fact that we will continue to hide," Keith noted.

"No," she admitted. "It will only allow us to finally share everything we truly feel."

Keith could find no argument against her logic. Needing her was beyond passionate kisses and protective embraces. She was the only person in the galaxy who made him feel like he was home. She offered him a protection that was not from physical strength but emotional. She could bring him comfort and allow him the safety to admit he wasn't infallible. She never judged him. She only wanted to be with him and share her love with him. There was no other reason for them to marry.

Without thought, Keith folded down on his knees. His hands remained clutched to hers, and he grew lost in her sapphire eyes. Their fingers were clasped as though letting go would undo every moment they ever shared.

His voice held only a slight waver of nerves. "Will you marry me tonight, Allura?"

Her heart pounded in competition with the rolling thunder outside. It was not the cabaret-style proposal she knew she would have received from a prince. There was no pomp and circumstance, no trailing line of dignitaries and nobility. There was no great feast, no celebration. Keith's words were simply stated, spoken from his heart and his nervous touch. It was real and genuine and more than she could have ever hoped.

Overwhelmed by the devotion and honesty in Keith's dark eyes, Allura lowered herself to her knees before him. She would not accept his proposal above him but as an equal to him. "With all my heart, Keith."

He caught a flash of the lightning in the window behind her. It brightened the sky enough to reveal the overlapping shapes of the clouds. The thunder crashed violently outside. He knew that by making these vows, they would finalize everything they worked hard to cultivate. Their love and devotion was undeniable. He couldn't bear the thought of waking up tomorrow without taking a vow to her. He would never forgive himself if he denied the marriage they were destined to have. She didn't want an extravagant wedding and a banquet any more than he did. They only wanted each other and to be together.

Keith and Allura slipped their fingers from each other. Gently, Allura placed her left hand to his chest where his heart was. Softly, she spoke the first words used in the Commoner Unification.

"In there, I am your wife."

Keith took his left hand and carefully placed it over her heart, their arms crossed before them. "In there, I am your husband."

Allura took a breath, and her right hand clutched to his right hand beneath their crossed arms. Her mind easily remembered the words she had witnessed in the ceremonies of recent. She and Keith had attended enough of them as guests and witnesses that they were familiar with the vows.

Her voice reflected the sincerity of her emotions. "I will honor and respect you. I will stand by your side and protect you."

Keith repeated the words, his eyes never once breaking from hers. He began the next verse of the sacred promise. "I know who my heart has chosen to love. It has chosen you, and I will love no other. This I vow to you with my soul and my life."

Allura then offered the same promise, her voice filled with emotion. "I know who my heart has chosen to love. It has chosen you, and I will love no other. This I vow to you with my soul and my life."

She pushed back the emotional tightness that had developed in her throat. There was more to the ceremony, and she knew that even tears of joy could wait. No matter what the future held for them, this was the one moment in her life she silently swore she would never forget.

Their hands came away from each other. It was the part of the ceremony where they would exchange tokens of their love. Usually the standard gift was jewelry or something that represented the courtship of the couple. Allura looked for the hidden pouch within her skirt. She pulled out the handkerchief that belonged to her mother. There was a time she could never imagine parting with it, but Keith earned the right to have the keepsake, and she felt no regret.

She placed the cloth carefully in his hands. "Take this cherished heirloom as a token of my love and a piece of me to keep with you. May it be a memory of our vow."

Keith looked at the small cloth resting in his hand. There were butterfly lilies embroidered in one of the corners. The trim along one of the edges had started fraying and was carefully sewn to prevent it from falling further apart. The pale blue material had faded with time. He knew this was more than a cloth handkerchief. It was a link to Allura's past. It was one of the few heirlooms that survived her parents' deaths. Knowing she was entrusting him with something irreplaceable, Keith tenderly folded the cloth and slipped it into a pocket hidden beneath his shirt. From another pocket in his shirt, he pulled out a faded photograph, slightly scratched, with small tears along the edges.

He laid the picture gently in Allura's hands, his voice a mere whisper. "Take this cherished heirloom as a token of my love and a piece of me to keep with you. May it be a memory of our vow."

The princess did not move her hands for fear of ruining the delicate picture even further. She studied the faces in the photograph. After a few moments, she realized that it was a portrait of his parents. The woman that was his mother was beautiful with short, dark hair and kind eyes that were strong but gentle. The man that was his father was also dark-haired and handsome. Looking up from the photograph she saw that Keith was nearly a duplicate of his father.

Keith watched Allura as her recognition to the people in the picture showed on her face. Parting with the only memory he had left of his parents, Keith knew he was doing the right thing. Allura would never show disrespect to his loss because she had experienced the same.

"I can't take this," she said softly. "You told me once to be selfish with this part of myself. You should be as well."

And, if there had been any doubts about Allura or being with her, Keith no longer had them. "It's all I have of who I am," he told her. "It's all I can give to you."

Allura was speechless. She realized she could give him one of any heirlooms in the castle, but he had nothing. His past was lost a long time ago, and he had no way to retrieve any of it. She was his future, and he was willing to give up his past so that they could be together, much as she was giving up her past as a princess to share her life with him.

Reluctantly accepting his gift, she placed the photograph into the hidden section on her skirt where her mother's handkerchief once resided. She brought her hands to his, finally allowing the thin line of joyous tears their place on her cheeks.

"Now we are one," she whispered, "From this day forward and forever. We are married through our hearts."

Keith felt himself caught up in the emotional moment. He didn't try to stop the trail on his cheeks from his own tears. He smiled through the blur of happiness.

"Now we are one," he repeated. "From this day forward and forever. We are married through our hearts."

The thunder exploded outside, and the storm had reached it peak. Lightning flashed nearly non-stop. The rain slammed against the window with the violence of bullets.

Keith and Allura were oblivious to the vicious attack nature was taking on the countryside. They took the kiss that would seal their vows. She fell into him, grasping as though letting go the slightest bit would suddenly stop the sweetest moment of her entire life.

Keith gathered his arms around her. Without breaking their kiss, he got their feet beneath them. The passionate fire he constantly tried to squelch was now ablaze, and he had no misgivings about being with her tonight. Lifting her in his arms, he carried her to the bed in the room. He was going to make love to her, as a husband should to his wife.

--- --- --- --- ---

With a little over an hour before sunrise, Keith looked one last time at Allura. He absently held the embroidered handkerchief in his hands, studying her. She was sleeping soundly, the blankets enveloping her in their soft warmth. Her long hair was spilled over her shoulders, covering the pillow upon which she rested. Her amber curls were the perfect compliment to the pale peach sheets. Her pink gown was neatly pooled on the floor, and the undergarments were carefully laid over the skirt of the gown with her shoes nearby.

The storm had settled down sometime after they both fell asleep. There was a silence outside that was eerie in its own way, yet calming as well. The clouds started to dissipate, and a pale moon would peek through occasionally. Once the sun would rise, it would shine through the window and help to awaken her. As long as they were not together, she could come up with an excuse for not sleeping in her own bed. Keith knew she would probably tell Nanny that she was fascinated by the storm and had fallen asleep watching it in a quiet area of the castle. Nanny would have a fit about her actions, but it was safer than admitting she just made love to the husband she married in secret.

Regretting that he had to leave, Keith returned the handkerchief to its hidden place in the pocket near his heart. Then, he quietly slipped through the door and locked it behind him. He didn't want Allura to have to explain why she was sleeping without her nightgown. He was going to protect her even more carefully now.

Soundlessly moving through the hallways, Keith made his way through the castle. He knew he only had about an hour before dawn. He wanted to get to his destination and back before the others started to awaken. Where he needed to be was a far distance from the east tower.

After nearly fifteen minutes of ducking from noises and walking in shadows, Keith started down the steps that led below the castle. He took a torch from one of the walls and lit it. It wasn't much light, but it was better than trying to navigate in the pitch dark.

Moving carefully, Keith found the crypt he had been seeking. He placed the torch in one of the holders by the royal sarcophagus. He knelt before King Alfor's tomb and lowered his head.

"Forgive me, Your Highness," he started. "I never asked for your blessing, and I'm not even certain you would have given it. I'm no prince, no duke, no count…nothing worthy of her. I don't have any trace of royal blood. And, she sacrificed hers to be with me."

Keith took a deep breath. It was not how he ever imagined talking to the father of the woman he would marry. "I merely love her. I would defend her with my very life."

He paused to look up at the tomb. "I married her last night in a ceremony that will never be acknowledged. Our wedding was humble and not worthy of a princess. I know it will be perceived that we have committed a grave sin, and her virtue has been stolen."

Keith felt his hands knot into fists. "I love her, and I can't emphasize that enough. She is the most compassionate and brave woman I have ever known. She sacrifices herself without question. I am honored to have her as my pilot and even more so as my wife. I want to be the best husband I can for her. What I lack in material wealth, I can offer her in emotional wealth. I can see that she is never lonely and that her sadness is short-lived. I can give her happy memories and always be supportive of her. God knows she doesn't have enough support around here. I will help her find her strength and teach her to be fearless against those who try to hold her back. I will be her shoulder to cry on, and her pillar of strength to lean on."

Standing from the ground, he touched a hand gently on the tomb. His voice was saddened but determined. "If that's not enough for your blessing, then I can only apologize for being the one who will make her happy."

Taking the torch from its holder, Keith turned.

A voice passed by him as though part of some gentle breeze.

_Just love her._

Keith knew it was more than a mere wind.

"I will. With all my heart I will," he whispered in response.

Then, he started back through the winding passages toward the castle.

_You have more than my blessing, young commander. You have my daughter._


	13. Chapter 13

_Author's Notes_: Happy New Year to all! At 11 months old, my son now has acquired two more teeth. For those keeping count, that's a total of six teeth so far. We're getting there. He'll be walking soon, too! He's just got to work on that balance a bit more. And now, without further ado, I present Chapter 13. Enjoy! ;-)

I hope I continue to do justice to the characters and the series of _Voltron_, and I ask for no flames, please. However, I will accept constructive criticism in order to develop further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I own nothing. I make no money. I only write about what I enjoy.

Chapter 13 – The Convergence of Allies

Hunk took a deep breath. It was like he was suddenly living some strange and surreal dream. It was the kind of dream that lingered over from the realm of fantasy, even after waking up in the morning. He could feel the residue of this bizarre reverie continuing to haunt him. The most unnerving problem he had with it was that he wasn't dreaming and hadn't had a dream he could remember in a few nights. Yet, subconscious images seemed to pass continually through his mind as he ran the Yellow Lion through the desert land.

Pulling on the controls, Hunk brought the Lion into a steep climb. He thought that if he changed his current maneuvers, it might break him from the oddities that he was currently feeling.

The engines of the Yellow Lion suddenly sounded different. He steered the metal beast with a bit more intensity. Hunk decided to try to stop the sounds using a similar tactic when trying to blow out carbons in an automobile's engine. He thought that maybe a slightly more aggressive approach would push the servos and motors back into alignment and end the noise. Then, the flash of subconscious images passed by him again. Now, it was driving him crazy. Every time he thought he could figure out what one of the pictures was, it faded away.

Running his hands over the controls, Hunk broke the climb of the Yellow Lion. Instead of flying upward, he pushed the Yellow Lion into a downhill run. He got the odd sensation that it practically took off from his control, moving of its own accord. Then, it came to a stop just above the ground. Hunk felt small beads of sweat upon his forehead. His hands were holding the controls with a calmness he didn't feel. He never remembered leveling out the Yellow Lion. It was done purely on his subconscious instincts.

"You're here, aren't you?" he asked quietly.

_The commander has sent you to learn of my existence._

Hunk swallowed hard. He wasn't quite sure what to make of the voice that he suddenly heard. He asked the question out loud, expecting no reply. The fact that his question was actually answered had left him somewhat unnerved.

"Keith said you helped him in the battle yesterday."

_Your commander speaks the truth. Yet, even with his honorable word, you still feel much hesitation to believe in my existence._

"No offense, but where I come from such things don't exist."

_Your lieutenant once had similar thoughts._

"Yeah, Lance kind of mentioned that you talked to him, too."

_Understand, Yellow Pilot, that I do not force my pilots to interact with me. Your only obligation is to pilot me for the defense of others. In your last battle, the lieutenant refrained from my presence whereas your commander willingly welcomed me._

Hunk thought about that for a moment. He could easily see Keith allowing an unseen voice to interact with him. For all the commander's secrets and solitude, it somehow made sense that he would sacrifice his privacy for the greater good of others. Yet, Hunk couldn't possibly ever see Lance allowing a strange intangible presence, never mind a tangible one, to get that close. So, it only made sense to know that Lance fought yesterday's battle purely with his own proficiency and instinct.

"I can't promise yet which choice I would make in a battle," Hunk said. "I mean, it's weird either way. If you're talking to me like now, that's one thing. But, if you're trying to talk to me while I'm concentrating in a battle, wouldn't I become confused? And, if I told you that I'd rather be left alone, wouldn't you still be hovering around in the background like a ghost?"

_Do not allow your lack of understanding to impede your instincts. You will know what decision to make when the time comes. Your inner self will tell you what to do, and that is the part of you to which I connect._

"Oh," Hunk said still entirely confused. It was difficult to understand things that weren't as simple as gears, wheels, and hands-on mechanics.

_I must apologize that so much knowledge has been lost in the years without consistent pilots. Even after living in my dormitory state for so long, I had to find the pathways to the wisdom I once held. Much of it is still lost. The ancients who created me did not have the opportunity to pass along all their knowledge to future generations. Perhaps if they did, you might find some understanding that would ease your concerns._

"Then, maybe that's something Pidge and I could look into. With a little investigating, we might just be able to find some old information stored away somewhere. It wouldn't be the first time he and I stumbled upon something like that."

_Your generosity on my behalf is deeply acknowledged. Your muscle is not only physical but radiates from a pure heart and a compassion for others. You have become one of the pillars on which my foundation stands, and it is why you were chosen for my left leg and the position of Yellow Pilot._

--- --- --- --- ---

Pidge sat quietly within the Green Lion. He waited until Hunk had returned to the desert cave before he decided to launch. As they had agreed earlier in the day, Hunk would take the first run. Regardless of Hunk's outcome in meeting Voltron, Pidge was to ride out after Hunk's return. They decided to do the runs back-to-back so that they could allow the princess her turn the following day.

Hunk's time in the Yellow Lion had surpassed a good hour, and Pidge wasn't sure what to make about it. He didn't know if that meant Hunk was flying around all day with no contact or if their conversation exceeded what Pidge estimated would be a normal time frame. Either way, Pidge knew it was his turn to find the spirit that Lance and Keith so greatly believed they had talked with. In a way, Pidge continued to be skeptical about the idea of an ancient spirit entity. Lance could be somewhat of a loose cannon when it came to the expense of someone's pride, and Keith had taken a pretty nasty hit to the head. In Pidge's eyes, that didn't make either of them a very reliable source.

"Well, here goes nothing," he declared, as he opened the Green Lion's controls and started his sprint over the forest. The worst they could do was waste some time practicing maneuvers or test the Lions to see how intensive the damage was to them in yesterday's battle. Either way, it would be a productive exercise.

Pidge's brown eyes scanned over the monitors, scrutinizing every detail as he began to hear engine noises that weren't consistent with the Green Lion's normal sounds. There was a rhythm to the turbines that he had never heard previously. Every so often, he would swear that the elements of the engine were running above their capacity, causing a high-pitched tempo. However, as he watched the displays, everything was running within the standard ranges. He sighed quietly, hoping that they wouldn't have to check and test every gauge and indicator on the control panel. Doing that would take upwards of a week.

Frowning, Pidge brought his eyes to the viewport. The blue sky before him stretched out for countless miles. The green and brown earth below him was a map of what Arus once had been. He could see ruins from houses and estates, reminders of what had been destroyed in the first Drule invasion over ten years ago. Seeing with his heart rather than his eyes, the young pilot could envision towns and cities. The buildings were only two or three stories tall, but their details and bright colors had a familiar charm. Unusual trees lined the boulevard. Soft, blue petals floated silently to the ground from the blooming orchids. Children raced around through the crowds, playing and laughing. Overall, the people moved about in a modern civilization where they were content in their peaceful lifestyle. A certain touch of dignity and class surrounded the community. They took their world and the beauty of it around them for granted, never once realizing it would one day be lost forever.

_You have finally come to meet me._

Pidge took the controls with a sense of urgency. The snow globe he created in his mind that was his imaginary Arus suddenly smashed.

"All right, if this is Lance playing around, it's not funny."

_Green Pilot, your friends have expressed much of the same sentiment._

Pidge took a calming breath. His daydreaming had completely caused him to blank out on the fact that his mission was to pursue contact with Voltron. It took him a moment to retain his composure.

"I just have to tell you that I'm still not sure I'm believing this."

_The other pilots have told me identical concerns._

Pidge decided to try explaining his theory. Maybe then, he could wrap his head around what was actually happening. "It's just that with all this amazing technology, it's kind of hard to fathom a spirit living in the metal. I'm thinking more likely there's an artificial intelligence program imbedded somewhere in the hard drives."

_I can assure you, Young Pilot, that I am a life source._

"But, you don't breathe or have a heartbeat," he argued with a logical explanation.

_No, breathing I do not. However, my heart does beat in its own way. The pain that sears though all of you when I am struck is the same pain I feel._

Pidge instinctively felt his fingers lightly run across the control panel. "I think I'm overwhelmed."

_I cannot promise that you will fully understand everything._

"Well, we can't learn everything about everything," Pidge said with a smile. "But, I'm curious to learn about you and how we can work together."

Voltron's voice reflected contentment with the acceptance of another pilot. _Your youthful enthusiasm is why you were chosen in the Green Lion. Where your strength is underestimated so is my left arm. With your capacity for strategy and my experienced past, we will develop equal strength in my weaker arm._

--- --- --- --- ---

Allura stood in front of the observation deck's glass windows and watched the small, white clouds drift across the sky above. The storms had cleared out overnight leaving the atmosphere a deep, crisp blue. A flock of birds caught her attention as they flew up from a few trees in the distance. Her fingers touched upon the tempered glass. It was warm and inviting, an enticement for her to run outside and enjoy the beauty of the day.

Her eyes fell to her reflection in the window. Allura studied her transparent likeness for a moment. She used to wear her jumpsuit to feel as though she was a part of her people, a common citizen who fought alongside them. Now, she wore the jumpsuit because it was who she had become. She was no longer trying to fit within the commoners as though in a disguise. She was now a commoner, an average citizen. Her title was nothing more than a memory.

Giving up her position as princess of Arus was not done in haste, though. In her secret wedding ceremony with Keith, she had secretly given up her birthright. She had chosen love over her planet, her people, and her destiny as a ruler. Allura expected to feel regret and shame for what she had done, but there was none. Her heart was no longer restless. For the first time in her life, she felt truly content and happy. She felt she could now defend her people without a leash around her.

Allura's eyes paused once again over the humble crown that sat upon her forehead. She moved her fingers to the small, red markings that were embroidered within the center of the crown. The three symbols once marked her station as a princess. Now, they were nothing but a decorative headpiece. She reached up with both hands to unlatch the crown from her braids. Not having it adorn her head for the first time last night gave her a freedom she never imagined.

"Princess! Don't fuss with your hair. It's not royal-like," Nanny shouted as she suddenly came into the room.

Allura felt her hands drop to her sides. She bit down her initial urge to yell at the servant like a child. She had to restrain her emotions even harder now or else she might just let slip her newfound secret life.

Sighing quietly, Allura closed her eyes.

"I went to wake you this morning but you weren't in bed," Nanny said as she moved closer.

Allura opened her eyes and forced herself to remain calm. "I wanted an early start today."

Nanny put a concerned hand on Allura's shoulder. "Is the stress of being a pilot getting to you? We can still find someone to take your place."

Allura breathed heavily. She wondered how many more times could the servant possibly bring up the same topic.

"I'm fine," Allura replied. "I just like to have a little freedom on occasion. I don't always want to have my life lived for me."

Nanny took her hand away from Allura's shoulder and began fussing with Allura's hair.

"What a mess," she muttered as she worked to fix the hapless bun that Allura did herself.

"Nanny, please, you don't need…"

"I wish your father and mother were still here," the servant interrupted, her fingers still working the golden locks into better places, "They would have gotten it through your stubborn skull that you were born into a life most girls would kill to have. You live in a beautiful castle, you have a planet of citizens who adore you, you are a beautiful young lady, and if you only applied yourself more appropriately, you could have such intelligence for government and politics. Any respectable prince would be honored to have you as his wife."

Allura stepped back and looked at Nanny feeling the tightness of the perfect bun the servant managed to set in just a matter of seconds. Allura's hair wasn't her concern at the moment, and instead of something so trivial, she wanted to know the answer to some of her many questions.

"Why do we always have this same conversation?" Allura asked, her voice both concerned and curious.

"Because you deserve such a life," Nanny laughed as though the answer was so obvious. "What would your dear, beautiful mother think if she saw you yesterday with the early stages of a bruise so horrible on her daughter? What would your father think if he knew you were acting like a ruffian, trying to keep up with those Earth boys?"

"I think my parents would find that I have honored them greatly by defending the people we are sworn to protect."

Nanny sighed heavily. "Oh, Princess, you truly are your father's daughter and your mother's essence."

That caught Allura's attention. She studied her governess with even more interest. "My parents were perfect royalty. You make them seem like they were awful rulers."

Nanny seemed to stare off into nowhere for a moment, caught up in her past. "They were wonderful rulers, but terrible lovers."

Allura felt herself blush momentarily. She didn't need to know quite that much about her parents, and Nanny should be ashamed with herself for mentioning such things.

The servant caught her verbal mishap and chuckled quietly at Allura's suddenly flushed cheeks. "Forgive me, Princess. I didn't mean it quite like that. Your mother was much like yourself. She was very resistant to being arranged into the marriage with your father. Chrislae was not very receptive to the idea that she was going to be marrying a completely strange man. And, Alfor wasn't entirely certain himself about taking vows to a woman he barely met. But, they knew it was the duty that was required of them. I can't say they ever really fell in love, but they certainly had compassion and cared greatly for each other.

"After you were born, though, there was such a change in them. They often said that they would not force you into the kind of marriage they had been given. They wanted to protect you from the duties of your station for as long as possible. Chrislae insisted that you enjoy being a child. Alfor agreed with her, and it was all I could do to try and instill some royal manners in you."

"They just wanted me to be happy," Allura realized. "It's what any parent would want of their child."

"For common children, that isn't usually a concern," Nanny said shaking her head. "But, to train a child who is meant to be a leader required stricter discipline and harsher rules."

Allura took a deep breath and carefully worded her next question. "Nanny, what do you think would make me happy now?"

The servant looked to her. "Peace and freedom from Zarkon."

"Then, please try to understand that peace and freedom are the reasons I fight so hard."

"Dear Child," Nanny began, "Why can't you have someone fight for you, like normal royalty would? You should be the one issuing the orders from the command room, telling the pilots who fight for your planet and your honor what you expect of them."

"Because I shouldn't expect more of the others than I'm willing to do myself. That's the foundation of a solid team. The Arusian people respect us for being a part of them and not hiding away in the castle, protecting ourselves from every danger…"

"Oh Princess," Nanny interrupted, "You just don't see the damage that has become of you since you began this reckless sacrificing. I could count on my two hands and my feet the injuries you've sustained. I don't know of any princesses that have been put into the medical recovery wing as many times as you have."

Allura closed her eyes and felt her head fall forward gently. "I guess, Nanny, we just will never have an understanding on this."

"That's your father talking," the servant sighed angrily.

Defensively, Allura opened her eyes and brought them to her governess. "Do not speak of my father with such irritation. He has done so much for Arus and the rest of us."

"I do not discredit his contributions. He did, however, make sure to leave his stubbornness like a mark upon you. I don't know how your mother put up with him at times."

Allura suddenly bit down on her retort. She wanted to say that she didn't know how her parents put up with Nanny, but decided against the insult. She decided instead to handle her exit diplomatically.

"I'll be in my room studying. Please do not disturb me," Allura said calmly as she turned and walked out the door. She realized that she couldn't wait until the following day when she would be free to fly her Blue Lion again. She was excited about the prospect of finally meeting Voltron, and she looked forward to learning about what the magical spirit could share with her.

--- --- --- --- ---

_Author's Additional Notes:_ Thanks, MustangAce, for catching my error on the name of Allura's mother! I'm not sure what possessed me to use Orla originally. Since I could not find any source for this character's name, I have settled on "Chrislae," a name I concocted. If her proper name can be found, I will gladly use that to maintain the canon.


	14. Chapter 14

_Author's Notes_: Another long wait, I know. I made the mistake of reading the latest Republic Commando novel (True Colors) shortly after posting Chapter 13. It took me out of the Denubian Galaxy for a while, and the journey back was longer than I expected. I enjoy very much reading the Republic Commando novels by Karen Traviss, and I must forewarn you all now that come late summer, the fourth and final novel will be released. At that point, expect another extra long delay while I read what I fear will be a tragic end to her storyline. (The title is _Republic Commando: Order 66_. Tell me that's not an omen to the ending…)

For the baby update, my son turned 1 on February 9 and did something amazing. He took his first steps on his birthday!! I'm such a happy and proud mommy. :-) He has now graduated from babyhood to toddlerhood.

I hope I continue to do justice to the characters and the series of _Voltron_, and I ask for no flames, please. However, I will accept constructive criticism in order to develop further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I own nothing. I make no money. I only write about what I enjoy.

Chapter 14 – Balance

The dungeon was his old friend. It was familiar in every respect. The dull lighting provided just enough of a glow to keep the shadows exaggerated. The darkness seemed endless as it stretched past the corners of the individual cells. Whimpers of those most terrified by their newfound environment echoed softly throughout. An enchanting symphony of agony and grief fed into the fear that hung heavy in the air. Each woeful sound had its place within the harmonious music that was the pitiful beings' suffering.

The smell of terror came to him like an exotic perfume. It was more than just sweat and body fluids. Those messes he could do without. No, he was addicted to the sweet pheromone that emanated from a being when their hope was fading. Whenever he chose a being to drag away from the dark shelter of their cell, the pheromone increased. The aroma would cling to him, fueling his hunger for more. It was a drug that just couldn't satisfy him.

He moved about the dungeon hallway, his fingers brushing against the bars of the cells as he passed. The tantalizing scent filled him as each prisoner he walked past prayed he would continue down the line. The miniscule light that shone kept the huddled masses in their corners, fearing the dim brightness of the torches. The prisoners all collectively held their breath at their white-haired demon of death.

Smirking, Lotor took pride in what was supposed to be an insult. Being thought of as a demon provided him a sense of having total power and control. Where his father could rule the surface of Doom, Lotor found he could be the king of the world under the castle. In the sad existence of the slaves and captives, Lotor had utter satisfaction in knowing he had the power to decide who would be left to rot in a corner, who would be beaten because he felt like it, and who would be executed because he was bored.

A picture entered the prince's mind suddenly. He was in the midst of his coronation to become king. He looked to the people of Doom. Without further contemplation, he dubbed himself King Lotor, the Demon of Death. The title would undoubtedly instill fear in his subjects and his enemies. And, with Allura by his side, the galaxy would see that he was not only someone to fear but also someone to respect.

Eyes narrowing to slits, Lotor stopped at the prison cell he sought. He unlocked the door and swung it open, savoring the raw fear around him.

"Your highness, I implore you. Please see reason where your father has not."

Lotor looked down to the male Drule as he begged upon his knees for mercy. The Drule still wore the bright green and gold robes that represented the class of the royal accountants. The luxurious and expensive material had picked up a layer of grime from the dungeon floor. It clung to the robes in a viscous film, dulling the fabric and staining it. The vibrancy of the colors was lost beneath substances Lotor could only imagine.

"Father said you hadn't been keeping accurate logs of the royal treasury, Drer," Lotor smiled. The scent of fear wafted strongly in the air, the intoxicating perfume of it feeding into Lotor's bloodlust.

The Drule clutched his hands together desperately as though in prayer. He looked upon Lotor with panic, his body shaking with fright. "I never meant to be disloyal. I merely needed some extra credits for now. I was going to repay it!"

"You never could lie, Drer," the prince smiled as he suddenly secured chains around the Drule's wrists. "Those trinkets and doubloons were part of my inheritance. Just admit that you got greedy after years of consistently counting the pieces. You thought we would never miss a few."

"Your Highness, please!" Drer shouted while he was being raised up to his feet. Lotor secured the shackles to a low beam in the ceiling. "Had I known the pieces I took were yours, I would have only taken the gold coins. I swear I would have returned their proper value!"

Drer was now stretched, his hands above his head. Lotor signaled for one of the jailers. A small table was wheeled into the cell.

Drer pulled against the chains, nearly crying when he saw what the table contained. There were various knives, each metal blade made with a different thickness. Some of the blades were smooth-edged, but others were jagged in patterns that left the accountant fearing how they would hurt going into his body and the agony that would follow as they were removed. A whip was coiled on the table as well. Lastly, a small cauldron sat on the table, a fire burning within it. Three branding pokers were sitting in the cauldron, the tips red-hot from the heat.

Lotor took a deep breath, drinking Drer's fear pheromone as though it was a fine wine. He picked up a knife with an especially jagged edge. He seemed to be studying the pointed teeth on the sharp side, considering the kind of damage it would do. Then, his eyes drifted over to the hot pokers in the cauldron. Something dark and wicked flashed under the prince's yellow irises. He placed the knife in the heated cauldron, grinning with crazed bloodlust.

"When I'm through with you, Drer, you'll wish my father had signed an execution order instead of an imprisonment order."

--- --- --- --- ---

Allura moved the levers within the Blue Lion. It broke free from the castle lake, emerging like a phoenix finally awakened after a deathly slumber. Allura brought the Lion into a vertical ascent, allowing the metallic beast to experience the freedom she always felt while flying. She smiled knowing that Nanny could say nothing to her today as she piloted her Blue Lion. Coran had made it very clear that Allura would have as much time as was necessary to develop her bond to Voltron's spirit.

Leveling out of the climb, Allura pushed the Blue Lion into a hard run high across the Robeast Wastes. Her heart raced as though she was running beside the Lion. Without thought, her hands smoothly moved about all the controls. She pushed the Blue Lion into a downhill run, imagining the air rushing past her, blowing her hair wildly over her shoulders.

Reaching the bottom of the imaginary hill, the Blue Lion changed position again and began to sprint across the smooth terrain of the desert.

Allura felt completely relaxed despite the rush of her freedom. Instinctively, she closed her eyes. There was no fear or worry, as she knew the Blue Lion was capable of handling the run safely. She felt the Lion was now aware of itself and its surroundings. She knew Voltron was with her. The spirit made no request for her attention, and it did not need to do so. In their own time, they would talk. For now, though, both of them enjoyed a freedom neither was accustomed to knowing.

Voltron knew he had been created as a slave to his metal body, taking the orders that his pilots gave him. He lived for his pilots and the citizens of Arus, both of which he had sworn to defend. He never felt resentment over his existence. He was created from the magic of loyalty, protection, duty, and righteousness. He could never imagine having any other purpose.

However, he rarely had the opportunity to flow so freely though a Lion. He had even less opportunities to know boundlessness in his completed form. This Arusian pilot was the first in many generations who knew how to release that control. The Arusian blood coursed through her strongly. Where the Earthen commander had the instincts to know of Voltron's existence and how to utilize him fully to win a battle, this young woman could instinctively sense the emotions of one's spirit. It was how she could heal the commander's fractured soul. She had no awareness of her ability. She was simply a good person who had a heart that overflowed with kindness and compassion.

Without having to think about it, this young pilot had reached her gentleness out to Voltron and offered him a gift of freedom, if only for a short time.

_Thank you_, Voltron said quietly as the Blue Lion came to a stop from its hard run.

Allura opened her eyes. The Blue Lion hovered lightly above an open field of brightly colored wildflowers. Yellow and pink spotted over the green grass. A few patches of blue and violet were scattered throughout.

"I think I should thank you," she replied breathlessly. Even though she never left the command chair of the Blue Lion, she felt as though she had run through the meadow below her with the carefree approach of a child.

_I haven't run free in many years_, Voltron explained. _Your heart opened and allowed me that opportunity._

"And, sharing that run with you was the most free I've felt in a long time," Allura emphasized.

_There is another who allows you such extravagances._

"I don't know what you're talking about," Allura lied. She had to protect Keith and her relationship to him at all costs.

_Former Princess of Arus, your union to the commander is no secret to me. It will not deviate how I serve you and Arus._

"How could you know this? How could you possibly know that I secretly hide my commoner status?"

_Your soul energy was once a single entity, restless and longing for companionship of a devoted and caring partner. Now, that energy is content and whole. The vow between you and the commander has created a band of energy that you both share. Prior to your union it was separate, but now it surrounds you both._

Carefully, Allura took the picture of Keith's parents from her belt. She brought it before her and looked at it. With gentle fingers, she tried to straighten the one corner that was bent. She thought about the vows they spoke that night. The words were simple, but they would follow her throughout her life and to her death.

"You sound as though you have seen love before."

_In the ancient days prior to my separation, there was a prince who piloted me. He had developed an attraction to the daughter of my maintenance caretaker. Over the course of time, their devotion became overwhelming. When the time came for the prince to marry another of his rank, he was told to end his liaison with the common lady. He refused, unable to force his heart from her. The king forbade the prince to defend Arus with me, forcing another son to take his place as my pilot. The prince disappeared with his lady, and a fleet of pirating raiders cruelly attacked Arus. My new pilot was far too inexperienced to defend Arus properly. The people of Arus were forced to create their own army. The Arusian Militia, along with my new pilot and me, conquered the raiders, driving them off Arus. Unfortunately, it took nearly a month for that victory. Had the prince who was accustomed to piloting me been able to do his required task, it would have taken less than a day to defeat the invaders. Sadly, after the destruction settled, the prince and his lady were found among those killed by the attacking pirates._

"So, that's why after the Zeshi Invasion King Brue put in place the Law of Royal Unity," Allura realized. She had been taught the name of the king in her history lessons, but the true story of the law was never explained. Finally understanding the reason why he created such a law, Allura thought out loud, "He wanted to stop royally-born Arusians from falling in love with commoners."

_Yes, he believed unity of rank was stronger than that of the heart. Had the king allowed that prince and his lady their love, I would have been piloted by someone who had the protective hunger necessary to defend Arus._

Allura brought her eyes back to the picture. "You told me to guard this love."

_Yes. You are stronger when together than when apart. Your devotion to each other allows me to be stronger. A strong bond amongst us all will keep Arus safe, not a union based on rank and title._

"All the stories never spoke of your humanity, yet it runs deep within your soul."

_My legends are the narratives of leaders wishing to instill fear in their enemies. Only my pilots ever learn of my true nature. As I learn about the secrets of my pilots and hold them, I ask the same with mine._

Allura returned the picture back to its place within her belt. "I am truly honored to be one of your pilots, Voltron. Defending Arus as a part of you is a genuine privilege, and I hope to be a confidant to you in all areas."

_Milady, your gentleness and kind heart give you the strength to resist the easy path. That is what has brought you into the position of the Blue Lion. You represent balance. It is with this balance that I am able to maintain my strength. For when I have wished to lash with all my might, it has been the quiet pleas within your heart that remind me of why I serve._

--- --- --- --- ---

The soft warmth of thick fur tickled Haggar's fingertips. Absently, she continued to move them over the bundle of feline in her arms. Her movements were deliberate and slow despite her lack of attention to it. It was part of her bond to the small beast.

The cat cradled itself against her, leaning into her brown robes. Its body quivered, with eyes closed. The quiet rumble of its purr brought a soothing calm to them both.

Haggar found herself closing her eyes for a moment, enjoying the quiet. For once, it was just the two of them: cat and caregiver, witch and familiar. The years had been kind to them both. Haggar had found Coba when he was just a tiny kitten. His mother was long lost as was the litter of which he was a part. A small ball of blue fur, Coba was the lone survivor of a mutilation that destroyed his nest. If not for Haggar's nearly tripping over one of the carcasses, she would have missed him entirely. At that time, his frail voice barely released a mew, but his persistence to get her attention had drawn her to the infant cat.

She scooped the kitten into her wrinkled hands, watching it sniff at her heartily for some sense of safety. Haggar gently stroked the kitten's head, and it cuddled into her. The name Coba came to her at that instant. In the culture of the ancient Doomite witches Coba loosely meant "serene shelter." There was no other name for the small creature. She knew then that Coba had chosen her for its companion, its keeper. The infant cat knew that Haggar would keep him safe, and her journey for her familiar had ended.

Opening her eyes, Haggar stepped back into the present. Coba stretched a blue arm toward her chest, hooking a claw gently onto Haggar's robe.

The witch smiled, realizing that she had unconsciously stopped petting the creature. The tender clawing was its affectionate way of bringing her back to the task.

"I'm sorry," Haggar whispered as her fingers started to massage his fur again.

The witch's eyes looked up once more at the cloned robeast in the chamber before her. It matched the previous one exactly in every aspect. It was a muscular creature, sporting the same claws and fangs. Like its predecessor, this creature was a tri-clops. Its skin was green, and it wore armor that matched closely to the previous robeast. This robeast, however, would not be equipped with a shield that would send forth a sonic wave. And, instead of a broadsword for battle, this one would carry a spiked mace. Additionally, Haggar chose to reverse the dominant arms. The left arm would now use the mace for attack. The right arm would defend using a round glaive that looked like a shield. Yet, when the glaive would be activated, it would open up into a circular blade with five sharp points ready for attack.

The witch hoped the minor changes in this robeast would be enough to distract the Voltron Force from the true weapon it carried. She did not want to take any chances this time. She had checked and double-checked her magic and her science on this one.

"Witch, is it ready?" Zarkon asked as he stepped into the robeast observation chamber.

Coba awoke suddenly and jumped from Haggar's arms. He landed on the floor and arched his back angrily at having been disturbed. He even dared to hiss his displeasure.

"_Nit Vervin_, Coba," Haggar soothed, speaking an ancient language to the creature and telling him to be still.

The cat straightened the arch in its back softening the bristling of his fur. He seemed to visibly calm down with Haggar's words.

Zarkon seemed curious about it. He had never heard Haggar speak the ancient language to the cat before. Yet, it worked wonders for Coba's unease.

Haggar decided to answer Zarkon's question before he wanted to know about the magic of the ancients. The former tyrant would have no more respect for it than Lotor would.

"Your Majesty, I can do nothing else. This robeast is the most complete blend of science and magic that I could possibly devise."

"And, just how exactly will it kill Voltron?" he wondered.

Haggar smiled to herself. "That, my lord, is the secret of it. With spies lurking around Doom, I will take no chances in offering such information."

Zarkon seemed unconvinced with Haggar's cryptic words, but he did not argue. He had seen too many instances of Voltron receiving lucky information from a spy that had been within his midst.

"I don't like having secrets kept from me, but you offer a convincing argument. When did you want to launch an attack?"

Haggar looked to the robeast again. "We are ready when you feel the time is right."

Zarkon nodded. "I will confirm the status of the fleet and let you know by tomorrow."

The witch sighed quietly with relief. She would lose another robeast, but this one would be worth the effort.

Zarkon turned and quietly left the chamber. Coba jumped back into Haggar's arms. The witch closed her eyes lightly, stroking the soft fur. The cat began its purring, and peace settled between the witch and her familiar once again.

--- --- --- --- ---

_Author's Additional Notes_: Coba's past as a kitten was inspired by my cat, Chewbacca. He was the only kitten left in his litter after a raccoon had wiped out his family. Chewie was offered to me during his recovery. One look at that baby cat, and I could not resist. Our pets do indeed choose their owners. ;-) Thanks, again, AlluraP for knowing Coba's name. I'd be lost without my Voltron Forums when I need research.


	15. Chapter 15

_Author's Notes_: The lengthy delay comes from having a hard time getting this chapter going. I knew what elements had to be present within it. The words were just not coming together for me. Thanks to a night of insomnia, I received the insight I needed to begin the chapter. Using _Anakin's Theme_ from "Star Wars Episode I", the first part of this chapter finally took shape. The rest of it, including the previous battle scenes in earlier chapters comes courtesy of _Halo Theme (Mjolnir Mix)_ that my friend told me to listen to, insisting I would probably like the music. Little does he know it has now become the theme for the Voltron battles in my story! ;-)

As always…

I hope I continue to do justice to the characters and the series of _Voltron_, and I ask for no flames, please. However, I will accept constructive criticism in order to develop further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I own nothing. I make no money. I only write about what I enjoy.

Chapter 15 – Playgrounds

It was a beautiful sound that echoed all throughout the Castle of Lions courtyard. Poets wrote about it as the sweetest melody. Parents described it as the most delightful clamor. It was the kind of noise that sparked happiness. It was the sound of children laughing. It was the high-pitched squeals of innocent lives having no cares and no worries.

Children ran free throughout the courtyard, their parents and guardians partaking in the casual buffet that the castle staff provided. Princess Allura had sent out an informal invitation to the people of Arus. She and the Voltron Force felt the time was right to unveil their weeks of hard work with converting the empty courtyard into an open and free recreational area.

The playground project started when three slides were imported to Arus through the donations of members from Galaxy Garrison. Pidge had taken the time a couple months ago to write an extensive letter to the leaders, requesting them to put aside whatever spare change they could afford. He wrote in depth about the desolation of the Arusian landscape and how there was nothing for the children to do constructively. He had argued that giving the young Arusians a place to play and be happy would bring forth a new generation of allies and potential recruits to the Garrison. He suspected that by preying on the Garrison's desire to enlist, he would give them no room for argument. He knew that there was no military branch that wanted to deny potential recruits in its future.

Pidge kept his vigil on the slide with the young group of children. Their ages ranged from five to nine years old. They all worked hard to maintain their patience for their turn to climb to the top of the ladder. They believed that being invited to the Castle of Lions to play in the princess' yard was considered a privilege and a special treat, so they made sure to be on their best behavior.

Pidge caught a little boy as he slipped at the bottom of the slide. The boy, a blonde-haired, brown-eyed, skinny child of five years old didn't seem fazed by his near accident. He merely laughed his thanks to Pidge and then ran back into the line of children. Another child, a red-haired girl with blue eyes took her turn down the slide. Her giggling rang loudly throughout the playground.

Lance stayed at the far distance of the courtyard. He had a small group of older boys and a couple of preteen girls. He was explaining the rules of a game he used to play back on Earth called baseball. He showed them a few techniques for how to throw the small ball, but instead of using a regular hardball, he opted for a softer foam-filled ball. It didn't carry the same weight as a baseball, but for the function of teaching some kids how to throw and catch, it would serve its purpose. The last thing he wanted was to see one of the younger children hit by a bad throw or a missed catch.

Taking the ball for a moment, Lance looked over to Hunk, who was waiting patiently in a catcher's squat. The second-in-command had the kids stand back a little bit. He set himself into a pitcher's stance and then went through a windup, pitching a slightly high curveball to Hunk.

The kids giggled at the uncharacteristic mistake of one of their beloved pilots. Lance shrugged his shoulders with a crooked smile. His voice conveyed mock frustration. "Hey, I'm a little out of practice from trying to save your planet. Besides, I was a shortstop not a pitcher."

Allura felt herself smiling with appreciation and happiness. The scene before her was exactly what she hoped to accomplish after the courtyard had gone through its transformation into a playground.

As her eyes continued to admire the handiwork of the courtyard, she gently pushed the little boy on the swing, making sure to keep him steady.

The Voltron Force had outdone themselves on the swingset alone. It was large enough to accommodate eight riders, and three of the seats had safety harnesses for smaller children. Hunk managed to have the safety seats shipped in exclusively from a dealer on Earth that specialized in children's playground equipment. Each of the seats was brightly colored to look like small animals. Hunk chose a barnyard theme. One swing was yellow to look like a chick. Another resembled a pig as it was colored pink. The last one was made to appear as a brown horse. The remaining swings were basic panels of red and blue color. Each of the chains was secured in strong but flexible plastic so that the children's fingers wouldn't get pinched.

"I want to go on the slide now," the little boy said as he tried to get himself to slow down with no luck. Allura helped slow down the swing until it came to a safe stop. Carefully removing the safety harness, she set the boy on the ground. He ran as fast as his short legs could get him to the slide so that he could secure a place in the line.

Taking a break to enjoy a moment, Allura smiled again at the beauty of the courtyard. Bushes and flowers bloomed in bright yellows and oranges along the castle wall. A batch of lavender and pink blossoms surrounded a small garden path. Thick, lush grass outlined each of the play areas. A part of the garden was sectioned off. Within it was an oval patch of Butterfly Lilies. The flowers had attracted a decent amount of butterflies. Their blue and white wings fluttered silently as they scurried around the open buds displaying similar excitement to the children in the courtyard.

The happy afternoon wasn't lost on Nanny or Coran either. They each had a group of small children surrounding them. Nanny sat upon a lush lavender blanket with a number of toddlers. Coran sat upon a cream-colored blanket with a handful of children ranging from five through seven years old. Nanny was telling a story about a duckling and a frog and their adventures in the forest as they found flowers to count and words to spell. Coran was offering a tale of a brave knight and his search for a lost treasure that had been stolen by raiders hundreds of years ago.

Keith helped a little girl of about three years old into one of the safety swings. He made sure the straps were secure around her. Then he gently pushed the swing until it built up enough momentum to move back and forth without needing constant assistance.

The little girl's bright, yellow curls bounced around her head, and for a moment Keith had a vision of a daughter. He saw his brown eyes and Allura's pale hair. Just as suddenly as he pictured the imaginary offspring, he discarded it. It was not something he should be thinking about so soon. He and Allura had taken their vows in a private commoner unification ceremony only a month ago.

Keith knew that keeping their marriage secret was hard enough. The thought of trying to hide a pregnancy and a child was just utterly ridiculous. If Allura suddenly told him some day that she was with child, they would have no choice but to confess it all and face the consequences. For now, though, they had time to enjoy their lives. They had time to figure out their plans. They had time to work out a way so that they could one day be together publicly.

Taking a glance to his right, he watched Allura sit down on one of the swings next to a girl with long, brown hair. The girl was probably nearing her teenage years. She was keeping a quiet conversation with Allura, but her brown eyes continued to watch one of the older boys in the group by Lance.

After a few moments, the girl took the advice that Allura had given her. She left the swings and went over to the group of kids wanting to learn about baseball. Lance offered her the ball. Her throw connected solidly with Hunk's glove. Lance began chatting excitedly with her, and Hunk encouraged the girl to try throwing it again.

Keith dared to prolong his glance at Allura and really look at her for a moment. She turned toward him and smiled quickly. Then, she sent her gaze elsewhere, and he put his effort into pushing the girl on the swing. One day he knew they would be more than just stolen glances and clandestine meetings.

The castle alarms suddenly rang loudly throughout the courtyard. The Voltron Force stopped and froze for a moment, scanning the skies. Out in the distance, they saw the familiar shape of a robeast coffin and a fleet of warships.

"Everyone, it's time to get into the castle," Keith spoke loudly and calmly. The last thing he wanted was to scare the children. He quickly stopped the swing and hurriedly unstrapped the girl. Taking her into his arms, he brought her to Nanny.

Nanny and Coran ushered the children and the guardians into the castle as though it had started to rain. They all remained calm. At one point Nanny uttered under her breath, "What a terrible way to waste a beautiful afternoon."

The Voltron Force stayed in the courtyard, making sure all the children and adults were accounted for and none of them were left behind. As soon as they were certain that the playground was abandoned, they ran toward the command room. It was time to pilot the Lions once more.

--- --- --- --- ---

Lotor stood with his arms crossed before him. He was confined yet again inside the bridge of the battle cruiser. He kept his mutterings to himself about how this was not his preferred method of battle. He would have enjoyed being in his personal combat fighter. However, this battle only called for action on the part of the robeast. Haggar was insistent that there was no other interference. The crazy, old hag said she needed the fleet just for appearances. It was all part of some intricate deception she insisted had to be present.

Before their departure from Doom, Lotor tried to argue that flying around in his personal fighter would help to keep up those appearances. However, Haggar insisted that it would only lead to unnecessary distractions. With the success of the research that came out of the last battle, Zarkon was more willing to allow the witch her wishes this time. Yet, she was also warned that failure would result in punishment beyond even what she could imagine.

Haggar accepted her potential fate with merely a bow of her head. Lotor had never witnessed such assurance in her before. Whatever she knew or had planned, she was willing to stake her life on it.

Lotor glanced at Haggar as she sat quietly upon one of the bridge chairs. It was exactly how she looked during the last battle. She was meditative and confident. There was a calm that exuded from within her. She wore a smile of sheer contentment. It was as though she had already fought the battle and knew the outcome.

"Patience, my prince," she said softly. Then, she laughed quietly. "I know you hate it when I do that."

Lotor simply moved his arms to his sides and clenched his fists. Then, he turned to Haggar. "How can you be so relaxed? We haven't even started the fight yet."

"This battle is less about weaponry and more about that which lies beneath," she explained.

"Damn it, Witch! I hate cryptic riddles even more than your meddling into my thoughts!"

Haggar threaded her fingers before her and sat into the cushion of the chair. "Watch, young prince. Enjoy the show. Concentrate your hunger on what you desire most."

Lotor felt his eyes narrow into slits. Then, as he watched her, he felt the dawning of realization. His voice was quiet. "You really believe we can win this time."

Haggar gently closed her eyelids. "Issue the command to release the robeast and see for yourself."

--- --- --- --- ---

The Voltron Force hurried with Coran to the control room. Keith had told Nanny to make sure that the children and their parents were secure within the underground shelter of the castle. If there was anything that could be done to prevent them from having another battle affect them, he was going to be sure to do so. Idly thinking about it as he ran, he hid the smirk that wanted to emerge. Putting Nanny in charge of the children gave Allura one less lecture from the governess. He had underhandedly allowed Allura the opportunity to avoid the usual berating that Nanny liked to give just before they were destined to battle a robeast.

The group quickly arrived at their destination. Coran threw himself into the seat before the monitor and began working the buttons on the electronic board in front of him. He brought up the image of the robeast's coffin. It had just settled down on the ground in the Riverland Wastes.

"We need to get out there before that thing starts wreaking havoc," Keith advised.

"Agreed," Coran replied. He tapped on the key that raised the command station to reveal the launch tubes below. He looked down to the Voltron Force as they moved about to their assigned doorways. Coran shouted to them, "Good luck."

"Hey, we'll be back by dinner!" Lance countered. "Make sure there's enough for everyone."

Then, they were gone. Coran whispered into the empty room, "Come back safe."

_You are troubled by this battle_, Alfor said.

Coran sat wearily into the chair and looked at the monitor before him. "Their last robeast was their hardest challenge. I'm fearful that the Drule have finally discovered new techniques to use against Voltron."

_Then, they will need to learn new techniques to use against the Drule_, Alfor answered. _Voltron has become their ally. In time they will all bond and become one formidable defender, just like their predecessors have._

Coran sighed heavily. "First, they need to survive this battle, Your Highness."

_Then, we will watch them survive it, my friend._

"Thank you," Coran answered. He hated the thought of watching the Voltron Force fight while he sat alone. His worries always overrode his logic. Now that Alfor was present, Coran knew he would be able to keep his thoughts steady and not feel like some father worrying about his brood of children.

_If they knew how we wished to protect them, they would think we were nothing more than foolish old men, wouldn't they?_

Coran smiled finally. Alfor always knew when to inject a light comment. "Indeed, they would."

--- --- --- --- ---

The Lions flew from their respective resting places, hurrying toward the Riverland Wastes. The Black Lion took its leap of faith from the pillar before the Castle of Lions. Red Lion emerged like a phoenix from the fires created by the lava in one of Arus' volcanoes. Green Lion tore through the forest and gathered altitude above the jade-colored trees. Yellow Lion bolted out of the desert cavern, steadily on the hunt. Blue Lion ripped through the water of the castle lake, shattering the calm waters into shards of droplets.

Voltron took the opportunity to project his spirit into each of the Lions. It would be the first test for them all as a team to decide how they wished to proceed with his involvement.

_I await your commands_, he said gently to each of them.

Keith had no hesitation as he opened himself to the connection. He had done this experience before, and he knew there was nothing different that Voltron wouldn't already know about him. Allura had told him that Voltron knew about their union and that their relationship was safe with him. Keith felt he had nothing to hide. Allowing the bond to form, Keith felt the familiar but foreign sensation of being more aware and vulnerable.

Lance took a quiet breath. He thought about it for a moment. He tried to allow himself the vulnerability that was required, but a shadow from his past blocked him. He wasn't ready to remember that part of his life yet, and the thought of offering it to a magical spirit just wasn't something he could do.

_Heal your heart first, Lieutenant_, Voltron told him.

Allura felt no fear as she let go of everything within her heart. Voltron already knew her most vulnerable thoughts and wishes. She had nothing to hide, and as the connection between them developed, Allura felt an abundance of strength and clarity.

Hunk had a difficult time thinking of Voltron as anything but a machine he could control. He looked for something within him that would give Voltron the access he would need. However, Hunk could only understand gears, levers, buttons, and the necessary components of how machinery worked. He could not open himself to thinking of Voltron as more than an elaborate ship that was piloted.

_In due time, Yellow Pilot_, Voltron said.

Pidge remembered when he met Voltron that he told him of his hope to experience things he hadn't before. He felt he had nothing significant to keep to himself. The opportunity to connect with something beyond his imagination was much more exciting than the secrets he preferred to harbor. He easily opened his thoughts and his instincts to Voltron. The world that opened before him was vast yet precise. Pidge felt stronger than he had ever in his life, but there was a vulnerability to it that he could not describe.

Voltron's voice came to Keith informing him of their status. **Commander, only the Lieutenant and the Yellow Pilot cannot bond.**

Keith nodded his head with understanding at Hunk's difficulty in bonding with Voltron. He knew the Yellow Lion's pilot was a superb mechanic. There wasn't anything he hadn't yet been able to fix. As long as he could work with components that held a tangible existence, it made sense to him. Even the magic of the Arusian culture was lost on Hunk. In the past, he always theorized some logical explanation for the Voltron Force's unusual successes, even after certain forces of magic intervened.

Keith knew Lance, however, would need more time to consider the vulnerability required. Lance didn't discuss himself seriously with anyone. He kept that part of him hidden under his façade of a lighthearted prankster. Lance had his demons, much as Keith had his. It was part of the reason Lance and Keith thought of themselves as brothers. What they realized they had lost in their past actually became the start of a new life for each of them. Lance, however, could not bring himself to find the closure he needed whereas Keith found it when he was assigned the mission to Arus.

**Nostalgia for your friends will distract us.**

Keith firmed his thoughts back to the present. He knew only seconds had passed, but each of those seconds was precious in a robeast conflict. Keith watched the robeast prepare itself for battle. Instantly, he realized that it was nearly a duplicate of the one they fought over a month ago. He noticed the different weapons, but he didn't dare take a chance with having the Lions battle separately.

**I understand, Commander. I await your orders.**

"Get ready to form Voltron," Keith announced.

"No Lions?" Hunk asked.

Pidge replied before Keith could. "It's a duplicate of the robeast we beat last time."

"Good. Let's not waste the opportunity then," Lance replied. "I told Coran we'd be back in time for dinner."

Keith grasped the lever and turned it into place, starting the cycle that would alter the Lions from their usual feline structures into the different body parts of Voltron.

His voice echoed through the Lion cockpits. "Activate interlocks."

As though suddenly in a life of its own, the key in its ignition placement flashed with power. It shifted from right to left, locking into position.

"Dynotherms connected," Keith continued.

The star-shaped panel arose on the control board. It flashed through its patterned series, lighting up on each point. It finished with a glow to the center of the star.

"Infracells up."

The control board lifted. A small, more compact series of instruments moved into place before each pilot. The levers and a panel of buttons became the additional instruments that would help to control Voltron's actions.

"Megathrusters are go," Keith finished confidently.

This time, the group was able to find their motivation. Collectively, they shouted, "Let's go Voltron Force!"

Without further delay, Keith pulled on the lever that put the Black Lion into its familiar climb. The rest of the Lions followed his lead, vertically flying upward. The lightning flashed around each of the Lions, signaling the impeding merge of the Lions into Voltron.

Keith took a calm breath. This time forming Voltron wasn't rushed. They were pacing themselves. It was how it used to be. This was the way they were accustomed to battling. Whatever happened after Voltron formed now, he knew they could handle it.

"Form feet and legs," Keith instructed confidently.

The Blue and Yellow Lions went through their change. They folded into themselves, with the head turning at a forty-five degree angle before the body. They moved into position on the Black Lion's legs, materializing the first part of Voltron.

"Form arms and body."

The Red and Green Lions tucked their legs and arms against the body of the Lions. They converted into Voltron's arms, sliding into the pivot point of the Black Lion's shoulders.

"And, I'll form the head," Keith finished.

The Black Lion's head opened its mouth, revealing Voltron's face inside. The Red and Green Lions crossed over Voltron's body. Then, they extended out and stretched as though awakening again. The Yellow and Blue Lions reached out, also moving with the sensation of being whole.

The robeast had gathered its mace and its glaive-like shield now. It moved toward Voltron, awaiting the challenge.

"Form Blazing Sword," Keith ordered. He had no intention to play around with a robeast ever again. There was more at stake now than ever before.

Voltron obeyed his commands. Red and Green Lions touched before him allowing the magical connection. As the Red and Green Lions pulled further away, the magic stretched revealing the Blazing Sword. Red Lion took command of the hilt. Voltron raised the sword high as though answering the robeast's challenge.

The Voltron Force was ready. Voltron awaited their commands.


	16. Chapter 16

_Author's Notes_: This delay comes from a personal and selfish pastime of mine. I decided to finally catch up on my TiVo'd figure skating world championships. Then, I started watching the spring season of _Dancing with the Stars_. I can't skate, and for as much as I like to think I can, I absolutely can't dance (LOL), but I have always found that watching skating and dancing gives me inspiration. My husband sees such activities as a boring waste of time, and my response is simply, "But, I think it's pretty!" Well, besides that I'm enjoying my toddler so much! He finally just took to wearing shoes, and he has the most amazing sense of humor that makes me laugh every day.

Special thanks to KittyLynne! She gave me some pointers on how to produce better fluency within the story. I hope some of that begins to show in this chapter.

As always…

I hope I continue to do justice to the characters and the series of _Voltron_, and I ask for no flames, please. However, I will accept constructive criticism in order to develop further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I own nothing. I make no money. I only write about what I enjoy.

Chapter 16 – What Lies Beneath

Voltron stood with calm patience, allowing the bond to develop among his pilots. The Commander's connection gave him a sense of trust and certainty. He knew what to expect from the commander and what was expected of him. The Green Pilot offered youthful enthusiasm and knowledge from a mind that could think beyond the usual boundaries. The Blue Pilot, the one Voltron addressed as Milady, was his anchor. She was his sense of balance, as he had told her previously. He could hear in her heart how she wished for a quick conflict, her anger fueled by an adversary that refused to be defeated. Yet, it was her gentleness and her affections for the members of her team that kept her from being engulfed with the hate she felt for her enemies.

Voltron felt the familiar awareness of becoming a complete being again. With the Lieutenant and the Yellow Pilot unable to engage in a connection, Voltron couldn't feel entirely whole. However, it was the first time in a great number of years that Voltron experienced what he once did back in the ancient times when his bond to his pilots went beyond friendship. It was a connection of the warrior's spirit, the need to defend and protect. It was a bond of purity and honor. It was the balanced hand of justice, and with the sensation of being a single entity once more, Voltron felt stronger than he had in years.

Mere seconds had passed, and the robeast could wait no longer. With impatience and destructive desire, it charged at Voltron. In the robeast's right hand was the glaive-like shield while the other hand swung the mace around its body, gathering the necessary momentum to provide a critical strike. The robeast raised its head and growled in pride, while the saliva from its fangs dripped with primeval hunger. The robeast was an odd concoction of a sophisticated predator preparing to feast upon its prey and a primitive beast attacking because it was in its instincts to do so.

"Incoming ugly!" Hunk shouted.

Lance adjusted the controls to get the Blazing Sword raised in the usual defense position. Voltron stood at the ready.

Keith knew there would be no Warrior's Standoff this time. This robeast was more into moving and doing rather than calculating and considering. As it charged at them, Voltron watched it closely, seeking something in the robeast's movement that would provide the opening they would need to launch a counter strike.

**Milady, slow the robeast down.**

Without thought, Allura launched a set of Sting-Ray Missiles. By having her thoughts open to Voltron during the battle, she knew that the ancient spirit had offered her the suggestion, and she merely needed to listen with her mind.

The missiles landed safely against the shield. However, it was enough of a distraction that it forced the robeast to pause in its initial lunge.

"Fire Eye Beams," Keith instructed. He wanted to take the upper hand while they could.

Again, the robeast raised its shield, deflecting the attack.

"Why is it that we don't have a shield?" Lance asked frustrated.

"Maybe you can ask Voltron one day," Pidge replied.

"Don't worry. I have a list for him next time we decide to chat."

**Commander, the robeast has regrouped.**

Keith watched out his viewport as the robeast brought the shield up to cover its attack while it ran forward. The mace was clenched strongly in the left hand. Moving with unexpected speed, the robeast swung the mace at Voltron. Lance adjusted the controls with split-second precision, and Voltron shifted the Blazing Sword to block the attack. With the mace currently locked in a stalemate, the robeast turned the shield on its side. The robeast then touched a hidden button connected to the handle on the back of the shield. Five blades pointed outward. The blades suddenly began spinning, and the robeast pushed the rotating blades into Voltron's torso as though it was a saw blade.

The giant robot let out a growl of agony.

Pidge heard Voltron as though the spirit was sitting beside him inside his Green Lion. Needing no time to decide the best action, Pidge's hands moved across his control board. He fired the Lion Torch into the face of the robeast. Flames shot forth, scorching the robeast's head, and it backed away, pulling the glaive free.

Allura and Hunk hurried to get Voltron to fly back a few hundred yards.

_Voltron_? Keith asked.

**I will be fine. It is superficial.**

_It went deep_, Allura pressed as Voltron responded not only to Keith, but to the unspoken surge of emotion among his connected pilots.

**The weapon did not pass through to the mechanics underneath**, Voltron explained calmly. **To me it is superficial.**

_Hunk and I will still fix you up_, Pidge offered.

**Understood**, Voltron finally conceded.

In the mere moments that the Voltron Force offered their concerns, the robeast had shaken off the affects of the burn it received. Its skin around its face was charred, and that only seemed to fuel its anger. The robeast slammed the mace against the shield, its growl one of vengeance.

The Voltron Force took a collective breath, preparing their next maneuver.

Voltron offered his insight to Keith, Pidge, and Allura. **The robeast's anger could be its weakness.**

The robeast suddenly threw the shield, all five blades opening into a spinning razor.

"I said I hate shields," Lance grumbled as he rounded the Red Lion and used the Blazing Sword to block the glaive. It flew into the ground, getting stuck in the soft dirt.

"Good deflection, Lance," Keith said.

"I hate shields," Lance repeated angrily.

The robeast now took the mace within its two hands. It charged at Voltron and swung the weapon violently. Lance was unable to get the sword up in time to block.

"Damn it!" he shouted.

The mecha-warrior took a powerful blast to the head and fell forward with disorientation. Lance quickly used a different tactic. He planted the Blazing Sword into the dirt, allowing Voltron to catch himself before falling completely. Kneeling before the sword, and using it as a support, Voltron shook off the hit.

_Voltron_? Keith, Pidge, and Allura asked at once.

**The Lieutenant's prompt maneuver salvaged a damaging hit.**

The robeast raised the mace again with the intention to pummel Voltron in the head.

**The robeast gets distracted easily**, Voltron offered to Keith.

Taking Voltron's observations into account again, Keith turned Voltron's head unexpectedly to face the robeast. He instructed, "Fire Ion Darts and Eye Beams."

The ion darts shot from Voltron's yellow ear-like horns while lasers fired from Voltron's eyes at the same time. Keith knew it wasn't meant to do a lot of damage, but it was a necessary distraction. It got the robeast to block its face, which was the intention. The Voltron Force used the opportunity to get Voltron's feet under him.

The robeast swung the mace recklessly, taking out its momentary agony with violent strikes. Lance answered its attacks by having Voltron block with the Blazing Sword.

The battle seemed locked for a few moments with neither adversary acquiring the upper ground.

**We must distract it more, Commander.**

"Princess, Hunk, fire Stingray Missiles at the first opportunity you can get," Keith directed.

Allura responded, "I'll try,"

"Just waiting for the open door," Hunk acknowledged.

"Pidge, your Lion Torch was effective earlier," Keith explained, "Use it if you can."

"Will do, Skipper," he answered.

"Yeah, a little help here would be nice," Lance said, the strain of running through numerous control sequences evident in his voice.

**Yellow Pilot has an opportunity.**

"Firing Stingray Missiles," Hunk announced.

The missile landed squarely in the robeast's chest. The armor blocked it, but it also noticeably shattered a section of the robeast's protective gear. The gap was larger than they would need to insert the Blazing Sword, and they preferred it easier than harder.

"There's an opening!" Pidge exclaimed excitedly.

"Keep that mace busy, and I'll get to it," Lance ordered.

**Continue the barrage, Commander. It's the only chance to end this conflict.**

"Launch Electro-Force Cross," Keith said confidently. Distracting the robeast, as Voltron noted, was the way to defeat it.

The robeast saw the golden cross come toward it, and it swung the mace at it, trying to deflect it. The diversion was all the Voltron Force needed. Lance drove the Blazing Sword into the armor's broken section.

Striking its mark, Keith suddenly screamed a heart wrenching, "No!"

-- -- -- -- --

Haggar clung to her mediation as though she was cozily under a set of plush blankets in her warm bed. The battle was just as she had envisioned. The partial image she had been seeing for weeks in her meditations had finally materialized. Haggar had no reason for her confidence to falter, and the sudden defeat of Voltron proved it. The reality before her was glorious, and her robeast had served its purpose perfectly. The witch remained in her magic-filled haze relishing how the Blazing Sword severed the robeast, unlocking the weapon that was hidden beneath.

The Voltron Force had no idea of the magic she imbedded into her destructive creature. Its sacrifice was a necessity. She had no doubt that the Voltron Force would utilize the Blazing Sword to finish off the robeast. Her calculations and mediations took many long days to perfect, but she knew the Blazing Sword was the channel her magic needed. Now, her spell of dissolution would eat through Voltron like a cancer. Merely separating the Lions years ago was not enough. Finally, she had the necessary incantation and ingredients to kill Voltron forever.

Wrapping the magic cleverly into a sacrificial robeast was her greatest idea yet. Speaking to Zarkon of it privately in her chambers finalized the plan. She knew that there were many spies lurking around Castle Doom. Her chamber was the safest place to discuss such matters, as she had been able to encase the conversation safely under an incantation, and it prevented their voices from moving past the secluded boundary she had created. Zarkon's threat on her life in court was merely to keep up appearances. No had known about the clandestine meeting she had with Zarkon where they confirmed the strategy and sealed the robeast's fate. Even Lotor was not to have prior knowledge of the plan for fear that he might sabotage it in order to steal away his princess before the spell could be released properly.

Now, the headstrong prince could have his princess. Unfortunately, none of the Voltron Force would be harmed, despite what they would feel. Haggar's spell only had the ability to attack another source of magic. Still, she was not concerned. Without Voltron, the space explorers and the princess were nothing but worthless human beings. Voltron's Lions guarded them, sheltering them within a protective mecha-shell. Without the Lions, the Voltron Force was now merely another handful of humans who could be just as easily defeated by a robeast or a volley of lasers. Haggar decided that she would leave their fate in Lotor's hands. If the prince decided he wanted any of them for his own purposes, she and Zarkon would not stand in his way. Haggar and Zarkon had what they wanted. They had the ultimate defeat of Voltron, the living being.

-- -- -- -- --

Revelations came to Keith faster than the pain that ran through his body. They were supposed to kill the robeast as it was an intricate trap laid out by Haggar. She used the robeast as a container for the horrific weapon within it, and the battle was not about defeating a robeast. It was about attacking the very spirit of Voltron.

As the agony coursed through Keith, Voltron echoed his scream. If the mecha-warrior was capable of writhing in pain, it would have fallen onto the ground doing so. Voltron's spirit exuded the sensation of being torn apart.

The arcs of electricity that danced through the cockpits of the Lions ripped into the Voltron Force's bodies. Keith suddenly heard the rest of the team's cries of pain, and his thoughts were overwhelmed between those of his friends and that of Voltron. Keith felt their pain as though it was his own, and the sensation of being torn to shreds coursed through him. He could feel each of his friends experiencing the same suffering, reminding him that his connection to Voltron caused him to feel everything. He and Voltron still had not had enough time together to perfect their connection to avoid such occurrences.

The screams of the Voltron Force tore through Keith's very soul. He knew he did this to them. He should have realized that the battle went much easier than last time. Haggar had somehow learned that Voltron's spirit still lived, and she found a way to attack him.

A whirlwind of memories suddenly flashed through Keith's consciousness. Some of those memories were his own as he saw his parents, his graduation from the academy, and the first time he met Allura. Then, another sent of memories overtook his. It was a vision of a battle that took place a long time ago.

In his mind's eye, Keith saw the mangled and slashed mecha-warriors lying out upon the meadow, a dead pilot in each of them. The green grass around them swayed gently in the breeze as though the afterlife was waving the dead souls towards safety. An eerie silence caressed the land as not even a bird dared to chirp. Still lost within the surreal experience, Keith watched how Voltron suddenly crashed hard as he sank down to his knees. The clamor of the metal warrior hitting the ground brought a sickening echo to the open land.

There was only one human left standing now. He remained encased in his mecha-armor and had shoved an oversized spear with all his might into Voltron's torso. Through Voltron's memories, Keith learned that the human was one of an elite warlock clan, one of the few who possessed the knowledge to destroy Voltron.

A scream of horrific agony rang around Keith as the memory continued. From the entrance point of the spear a black mass suddenly spread throughout Voltron, and the warlock muttered some final, unrecognizable words in an unknown language. The warlock's body gave in to the mortal wound he had been given earlier in the conflict, his corpse folding onto the ground. Keith was aware of how Voltron began to pull his essence into a tight cluster, drawing it toward his center. Then, the mass of Voltron's spirit disappeared into an unseen section of his body.

The young pilot of that battle, a green-eyed blonde-haired knight fell forward, dead. The tip of the spear had imbedded in his chest, shattering bone and his heart.

The sound of Allura's scream suddenly broke Keith from the memories that were not his. Regret and dread brought his thoughts back to the present. He failed to protect her. He failed to keep his wife safe.

"Allura," he whispered weakly.

Abrupt silence overcame the rest of Voltron Force as they lost consciousness from the pain that went beyond their darkest nightmares. The ancient spirit of Voltron seemed to fade considerably. As though his limbs were being severed from his body, Voltron's Lions disengaged on their own. The pain of the separation was enough to kill Keith; instinctively, he wished it would. Then, he fell into the black abyss of what he expected would be death.

_Commander!_

Voltron clutched desperately to the Black Lion. It was the only one of the five that he had been instructed to always seek should anything try to harm him. The hateful magic of the Drule attack severed his arms and legs. His presence was quickly dissolving into nothing. He concentrated what remnants were left of his spirit into the Black Lion. It was the location where his protected heart resided. It was the last safe haven he could hide within as he had done once before. He knew it was his only chance to be reborn at a later time.

-- -- -- -- --

Lotor spun from the viewscreen with a mixture of accomplishment and confusion. His eyes fell instantly onto the witch that sat in the bridge chair. He felt excitement over the thought of seeing Voltron's defeat. Yet, he could not hide his bewilderment as he had absolutely no idea what just transpired. He needed to know if Haggar had betrayed him and just killed the princess, the object of his lust and desire.

"What did you do, Witch?" he yelled.

Haggar sighed quietly. Her moment of plush warmth had come to an end. She opened her eyes, watching the viewscreen.

"Voltron has been defeated," she replied.

"I can see that!" he shouted. "Look at the Lions! They're disengaging." Lotor pointed to the screen, watching the Lions crash onto the planet.

Haggar smiled triumphantly. The Lions all folded down onto the ground, and they appeared as nothing more than a litter of dead cats. Red Lion landed on its side, a cat killed by a kick to its body. Green Lion rolled down one of the hills, where it came to rest on its back. From the distance of the warship, it gave the appearance of having a broken neck. Yellow Lion landed face-first into a shallow pond. It was a cat drowned by some unforgiving being. Blue Lion was sprawled upon its belly, a cat that was strangled. Black Lion fell dead on its side, a poisoned cat, lying in close proximity to the Blue Lion.

"Did you kill her, Witch?" Lotor demanded.

"None of them are harmed," Haggar explained calmly. "You may do with them as you wish. I merely attacked Voltron, the living spirit that resides within the Lions."

Lotor couldn't hide his sudden shock. "You did what?"

Haggar smiled again. "Your father and I had no choice but to keep the true nature of the attack secret. With spies in our midst, we were left with no other alternative."

"You couldn't even tell me?"

"My prince, your father wanted to take no chances with a plan that had the opportunity for success. He feared your overzealous lust for the princess might interfere."

Lotor grumbled with frustration. He decided to change the subject before he got even angrier. The fact that Voltron, the ever-present thorn in his side, was finally defeated gave him the sense to push aside the anger he felt for being excluded from the plan. "How did you find out Voltron was alive?"

"My mediation in the last battle provided many answers for me. I sensed his spirit, the life force created by magic that keeps Voltron from knowing death. It took long weeks of research, but I found the necessary tools to use against him. The spirit of Voltron has been diseased. Think of it as a cancer designed specifically for Voltron." Haggar stood from the chair and moved quietly toward Lotor. She lowered her voice and smiled conspiratorially. "But, you don't care about that. Remember my vision of the princess upon her knees before you? Now is your chance to make that vision your reality."

Lotor looked once again to the viewscreen. The Blue and Black Lions were within a close distance. The other three Lions had been scattered in their fall. A wicked gleam flashed in Lotor's yellow irises.

"You wish to avenge everything the commander has ever ruined?" Haggar asked.

For once, Lotor didn't damn the witch to hell and tell her he hated it when she read his thoughts. This time, he was satisfied that she could read so clearly into him. "I want them both. Allura will be my queen and the commander will be my personal experiment on pain and suffering."

Turning towards one of the communications stations, Lotor opened a channel among the warships. "Keep the extraction team covered. We're taking home some souvenirs. Blast anything that gets remotely close."

-- -- -- -- --

_Author's Additional Notes_: Yes, I know I changed the pilot's location on Voltron. All will be explained when Voltron is ready to tell me more about his past. ;-)


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17 – The Music Stops

_Author's Notes_: Thanks again everyone for the continued support!! Additionally, I would like to personally thank PrincessAlluraP from the Official Voltron Boards who gave me the most detailed description of each of the Lion's elemental sources. I decided to bend the canon a bit this time for the sake of poetic license and artistry.

As always…

I hope I continue to do justice to the characters and the series of _Voltron_, and I ask for no flames, please. However, I will accept constructive criticism in order to develop further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I own nothing. I make no money. I only write about what I enjoy.

Chapter 17 – The Music Stops

Lance blinked his eyes once and then he wished he hadn't. The migraine-like pain that filled his head threatened to make his brain explode. His skin felt the sensation of having been burned from electrocution. He feared removing his gloves to check, even if he could move his arms. The bones in his entire body felt fragile, and his muscles didn't want to respond to his thoughts, making him too weak to do anything.

After a few moments, Lance realized that a lever was jabbing hard into his cheek, and it was the motivation he needed to finally open his eyes once again. He feared that there would be a shard of glass from the viewport or a piece of shrapnel from the control panel imbedded in his skin.

He took a deep breath and mentally braced himself, expecting a sticky pool of his blood to be beneath his face. His eyes gradually focused, only to see nothing out of place before him. Slowly finding the strength to lift his head, he realized there was no blood. However, the jab of pain that ran through his head forced him to slump onto the control panel once more.

"Damn it," he mumbled. Instead of his cheek pressed against one of the levers, the goggles on his helmet fell onto one of the knobs and slid his head into an uncomfortably twisted position.

Finding his thoughts slowly coming back into focus, he decided that the agony in his body was the lesser of the two evils as opposed to breaking his neck from falling repeatedly onto the instrument panel. Using all his control to focus his energy into his hands, Lance took a deep breath in preparation for the movements his body didn't want him to do.

"On the count of three," he muttered. "One…two…"

Before hitting three, his hands came up before him and pushed him off the control panel. He sat up in the seat and leaned against the back of it.

"Three," he breathed in a noise that sounded like a wounded animal's growl as he tried to push aside the agony. Finally getting into an upright position seemed to help with that, except for the fact that the migraine now brought with it dizziness that made him want to be sick. Instinctively, his eyes slammed shut as his hands again grasped the control panel before him, bracing to keep the world straight. Slowly, the dizziness began to even out, and strangely, the migraine dulled down to a severe headache.

Lance took another deep breath, and felt the phantom pain on his skin become more like the pins and needles of having a limb fall asleep. It was annoying now, but not the agony of thinking his entire body was on fire and being crumpled in a trash compactor at the same time.

Opening his eyes, Lance fought to get his thoughts back onto priorities. He moved a hand to one of the monitor's buttons and clicked it. He was rewarded with minimal power returning back into the Red Lion. He found it eerily quiet as though only the mechanical power supplies were working. The symphony within the Red Lion that he had grown accustomed to hearing in the past months was silent, and he had the odd feeling that anything requiring magical power to run was not able to respond.

He ignored the headache now, growing more concerned for his friends and Voltron. He may not have been able to bond with the ancient spirit, but that didn't mean he didn't care about him.

Lance flicked a few more switches, running a diagnostic on the Red Lion. He also opened a communications channel to the other Lions.

"Keith, Princess, Hunk, Pidge, anyone?" he asked.

"God, my head hurts," Hunk responded. "And, I didn't even have a drink."

"I think I'm going to be sick," Pidge answered.

Lance nearly laughed for a moment. Then, he realized not everyone checked in.

"Keith? Princess?" he asked again. "Come on, this isn't funny."

"Anyone run a diagnostic yet?" Hunk asked.

Pidge answered first. "I've got minimal power, just communications and diagnostics."

"Same here," Hunk added. "Yellow Lion isn't even able to stand up."

"I've got a bad feeling about this," Lance commented. He tried once again on the communications. "Keith? Princess?"

"According to my monitors, you're closest to them, Lance," Pidge offered. "Hunk and I are little more than a mile away."

"All right," Lance sighed. He felt like he was moving through mud that was full of leeches and knives. Every movement he made sent pricks of pain over his skin, and he was beginning to think he would have to live out his days feeling like a burn victim. Preparing for the worst and knowing that he had to see for himself, he finally removed one of his gloves and rolled up one of his sleeves. He expected to see blackened and melted skin, but he was surprisingly unharmed.

"What the hell?" he asked, forgetting for a moment his communications was still open.

"What happened?" Hunk responded.

"I just realized that I'm not bleeding or burned," Lance answered, "but I feel like I should be."

"Yeah, we noticed that, too," Pidge offered. "I've been trying to see if Voltron is okay, but it's like he's gone."

"Now, I have a really bad feeling about this," Lance said setting the sleeve and glove back in place. "I'll check in after I see if Keith and the princess are okay. You guys try to get a hold of Coran and see if he knows what happened. I'll keep my personal communicator open."

Then, Lance slowly hauled himself out of his Red Lion. He climbed out of the mechanical beast's head, realizing that he had to climb to the side of Red Lion's face in order to get to the top. Once he reached the high point where he could see the Robeast Wastes, he scanned the scene before him. His heart sunk, and that was worse than the annoying but fading pain he was still experiencing.

The Robeast Wastes looked like a giant had gone on a killing spree against a litter of cats. Had he not just talked with Hunk and Pidge, he would have assumed that they were broken like the Lions they were inside. The awkward angles of the Lions' bodies made it seem worse than it was. Lance hoped that he would find Keith and Princess Allura just having a hard time coming out of the trauma. Lance then shook his head silently. He was trying to figure out exactly what trauma they experienced. The robeast had been defeated, but he wondered why the Lions looked dead and why he felt like he should be, too.

Getting his bearings straight, Lance decided to take the climb down to the ground with as much caution as he dared. It wouldn't do anyone any good if he fell and broke his neck or a limb.

Finally reaching the dirt, it occurred to Lance that the more he moved, the quicker his body seemed to heal, if healing was what his body was actually doing. All he knew was that the pain had subsided considerably, and as he began a light sprint across the Robeasts Wastes to the Black Lion, he almost felt like himself once more.

-- -- -- -- --

"I can sit here no longer!" Coran shouted with frustration as he finally pushed himself out of the chair before the control room's video screen.

_And do what?_ Alfor asked gently. _We had no choice but to watch the Drule take my daughter and her beloved commander. How many more men would you have executed? So far, we've lost six guards and three transport crafts. Allura and Keith are survivors. The people of Arus, the innocent lives they strive to protect, have not been harmed today. Do not put the Arusians in the crossfire._

Coran let his eyes wander over the monitor, watching the sight of the Drule fleet fading into the distant atmosphere of Arus. He felt like a failure, his mind still hearing Lotor's laughter as it continued to echo in the control room. _Fire on us again, and I'll not only return the commander without a parachute, but I'll destroy the two closest towns as well_, the prince told him, the insanity of a madman evident in his voice. Coran had no reason not to believe the crazy prince would actually have done it.

Fists clenching with anger once more, the royal advisor uncharacteristically slammed one of his closed hands onto the control panel.

Suddenly, Pidge's voice came across the communications. "Green Lion to Castle Control."

Coran's head perked up, and if it wasn't for the grave situation with Allura and Keith, he might have found humor in that moment. There was now some kind of hope that at least one of the Voltron Force was alive. Settling into the chair, Coran opened the communications channel to a two-way conversation.

"I hear you Pidge," the advisor sighed, relief unmistakable in his voice.

"Any idea what happened?" Hunk asked now.

Coran allowed a brief, small smile to cross his face as his eyes caught sight of Lance starting to make his way out of the Red Lion. The three remaining members of the Voltron Force were now accounted for and alive. Some of Coran's fears began to subside knowing now that there was a chance to get Keith and Allura back.

_Tend to them, my friend. They will need your guidance and patience_, Alfor said quietly before his presence faded away.

Coran flipped another switch, allowing his message to reach an open communications channel between the Lions and Lance. "Lotor has taken Keith and Princess Allura."

-- -- -- -- --

Lance instantly stopped running, and he prayed that Coran didn't just say what he thought he did. He grabbed his personal communicator and touched the switch that allowed him to talk. He didn't feel much for jokes, but he knew of no other way to start asking questions without suddenly pointing an accusing finger. "That won't get us back in time for dinner, Coran."

"I'm sorry, Lance," came back the advisor's reply. "My hands were tied. Lotor would have killed Keith as well as a number of citizens. I thought you all might have been dead. I hoped that Keith and Allura would find a way to survive and escape at a later time rather than sacrifice more innocent lives."

Lance closed his eyes for a moment and took a calming breath. He knew that blaming Coran wasn't the answer. He spoke into the communicator again. "We need a plan. Fast. The Lions aren't responding to much more than diagnostics and communications."

Coran swore under his breath. "This situation has grown even graver, I fear."

"What do you mean?" Hunk asked.

The advisor continued, "If the Lions seem to be dead, then they are. Voltron's spirit was made of magic. If the controls in the Lions that are run by magic are not functioning, then it means Voltron is essentially dead."

Lance turned around to look at the unmoving, giant cats around him. He didn't think his bad feeling could get any worse, but it just managed to do so.

"Can't we contact Sven and Romelle for help?" Pidge asked.

Coran's voice sounded defeated. "I wish I could. They are unavailable."

"Then, make them available," Lance pressed, his frustration growing.

The advisor maintained his patient tone. "Sven and Romelle are negotiating a peace treaty. There had been a civil war that was going on for decades between two of their neighboring nations, and they finally have a chance to put a truce between the people."

"Okay, fine. I get it," Lance answered. He was just short of taking his helmet and throwing it as far as he could while his anger was slowing overtaking him. Clenching a fist instead, he took a breath to calm down and think. He knew that Sven would have been a big help, and Pollux had a decent military.

Lance decided to put his energy into the constructive job of coming up with a plan. Thinking out loud he began, "Take Pollux out of the equation. Name some of our allies. We can't rescue Keith and Princess Allura and go up against the Drule on their own turf without Voltron. Suicide isn't my idea of a fun weekend."

Coran named a few other planets and leaders, but Lance just wasn't finding anyone able to handle the challenge of invading Planet Doom. Most of their allies were planets that were once oppressed under the Drule Empire and would still be if it wasn't for the Voltron Force. Those planets were in various recovery stages and were useless against a major empire like Doom.

Lance brought his eyes once again to the lifeless Lions scattered around him, trying to find some inspiration. Going to Planet Doom was a risky chance for them with Voltron. The thought of doing so with only three Lions, none of which were functioning anywhere near their capability, was not an option. Even if the three Lions were in superb condition, it was just plain suicidal.

Growing even more frustrated, Lance began pacing. He knew that getting Keith and Princess Allura back would probably require a sensitive operation. There was no telling what Lotor would do with them and where he would keep them. Stealth and reconnaissance were requirements. Going in with guns blazing – even if they had any that big – was nothing more than a shot in the dark and could be more harmful to his friends than beneficial. Lance racked his brain for anyone that had the kind of military training required for such a mission.

Then, in a sudden moment of insight, Lance realized they had an ally who could offer the vast military presence that was needed. With the fiasco that had taken place upon first meeting the man, Lance knew why he had pushed him to the back of his mind. Nanny had tried to force the princess to become more than a military ally with him. The servant thought she had the right to play matchmaker, formulating a marriage with the princess and this leader. If it wasn't for Keith salvaging peace in his clandestine walk through the castle that night with the potential suitor, they could have lost the only ally who was able to bring them the aid they needed. Whatever had been said that night between the leaders had forged an unconditional and mutual agreement to provide aid whenever it was needed.

Lance thought back to the following morning after that fateful night and remembered how this former suitor gave them a detailed analysis on the immense military and weaponry of his planet.

Lance knew that the favor technically wasn't his to use, and he didn't entirely like the idea of begging for help from a new ally, especially since it would put their ally at war with the Drule. However, without Romelle and her people on Pollux, it was their next best chance.

Begrudgingly Lance sighed into the communicator, "Call Dirin from Fedmar and don't waste time on pleasantries. Time is too important right now."

-- -- -- -- --

_"…Ca'har voy extis'tan!" The final words of the long incantation had finally come to an end. The last echoes of the Mages' voices faded into the high ceiling. Then, as though a floodgate had been opened, the essence of life glowed over the giant metal structure. The life source seeped deep into the metal, stretching and growing into every last component of the mechanics._

_Ailin, the Mage of Storms held her breath for a moment. He deep, blue eyes revealed her hope that the months of the blacksmiths' metal forging and the Mages' incantations would come to fruition. She glanced down to her folded hands, realizing that the tasks had taken their toll on her. The strain of using so much magic had wrinkled her skin and grayed her once-black hair. Her body had even begun to ache in ways she couldn't fathom at her age. Turning her head slightly toward the other Mages, Ailin didn't need to speculate on their newfound aging, as it was very clear that the price for all of them had been great._

_Joldin was only months ago a strong man nearing middle age in vigorous health. Now, his brown, sunken eyes and his arched neck had turned the Mage of Water into a fragile-looking human. His short, blonde hair had thinned considerably, barely covering his head like a crown of fuzz._

_The Mage of Fire, Pasche, was the youngest of them. Her red-gold hair used to be in luxurious curls and her green eyes were once sharp and clear. In her current condition, her hair had gone straight, the white locks braided behind her head. The emerald of her eyes presently held only a portion of the fire they once did as the thin cataracts had begun to fade her vision._

_Frenn, the Mage of the Wind, stood with the support of a tree limb carved into a walking cane. He was the oldest of the group, having had problems with his right leg for many years prior. After the construction on the warrior began, Frenn's leg grew decrepit and useless, unable to bend at all. Only with the help of the cane, had he been able to walk short distances; long distances were impossible for him now. His blue eyes took in each of his young companions, waiting as they did._

_Lastly, Crainn, the Mage of the Land, sat on a thick pile of pillows, as she was unable to stand for long periods of time. Her back had become twisted and hunched. The woman who once held great beauty and stood with the straightness required of an aristocrat had become nothing more than a broken old woman. Her short hair was wild and thick around her head, and her attempts at taming the locks resulted in frizzed knots._

_The Mages waited to see if all their knowledge and drudgery was worth their sacrifices. Portions of their life energy had been offered into the mechanics before them, each of their spirits bonding to become one mighty life force._

_They each knew that their call to this duty was not asked lightly. King Rowen had requested their attention, as he feared the worst had finally come upon Arus. Each of the Mages willingly heeded the king's call to help stop the Xujan, who had been mercilessly attacking the planet, conquering one village after another and leaving nothing but destruction and death in their wake. They expertly wiped out every army that King Rowen had sent. The Arusian armies could do very little to bring about a victory. The purpose of the armies now was merely to slow down the Xujan forces until some kind of miracle could happen._

_The Xujan had taken over the western shores on the mainland continent and were quickly working their way to the east. The Xujan invaders were impressively-sized humans who wore full-body armor. Their strangely sophisticated weaponry also gave the Arusian knights no chance for victory. It was the worst invasion Arus had ever known as the planet always had its share of civil wars and inter-village conflicts. However, this alien race that came so advanced from another galaxy would destroy the humble planet and leave nothing of it behind._

_Rowen knew he had no choice but to gather the elemental mages and keep them safeguarded in a secret location, hoping that they could find the miracle they needed in order to avoid planet-wide annihilation. He put all his faith and trust into the Arusian Mages, knowing they were his last chance to save Arus and every fiber of life within it._

_The Mages realized that even if they used a spell of some kind against the army this time, there was no guarantee a similar invasion wouldn't happen again. They decided it was in Arus' best interest to create a defender who would be, for all intents and purposes, immortal. They needed a way for such a being to pass from generation to generation and not just be a superlative weapon. They also needed a safeguard that if an enemy had acquired the weapon, it would have no chance to be used against the very lives it was created to protect._

_The colossal robot that stood before the Mages was the defender they had built, an exoskeleton of their own design. They silently waited as the final stage of the incantation had forged the magic to the metal, making it one being with a consciousness._

_After long minutes had passed, the blue eyes of the mecha-armor suddenly flashed as though the robotic defender had awoken from a long and deep sleep._

_The black-haired knight who had been assigned the task of operating the defensive weapon stepped forward out of the shadows he had been within. He moved before the Mages and peered upward to the inside chest cavity where the pilot's seat would be hidden behind the Crest of Arus. His eyes scrutinized the many levers and buttons that seemed complicated and confusing. He doubtfully turned to the mages around him._

_"Trust in the warrior-droid, Vaugn, and he will guide you as you pilot him," Ailin said to the knight. Her blue eyes met his brown irises, seeking his comprehension. She waited a moment before explaining further. "We gave it a conscience and an awareness. Only with absolute trust will you be able to communicate."_

_Joldin nodded his approval. "You will need to bare your heart and your mind. It was one of the only ways we could be assured that if this warrior-weapon fell into the wrong hands that it could not be operated."_

_Pasche straightened her back as she spoke. Her soft voice was sharp and clear, a contradiction to the fragile woman she appeared to be. "Should anything attack the defender and bring it fatal harm, we have given knowledge to the life force to seek the heart. It is deeply hidden and sealed in the center of the black body. No mortal can touch it and only the mecha-droid's soul can access it."_

_Vaugn took a quiet breath, absorbing all the important details the Mages offered. Then, a question came to him that he wasn't sure if the Mages had even addressed._

_"Surely when we take Arus back, you will want the name of our savior known," the knight said as he turned to look at the mecha-warrior._

_Crainn nodded her head weakly. "Call him Voltron. In the incantation language of the Mages, it means Immortal Defender."_

_"As you wish," Vaugn responded. Then, he began the climb up to the control chamber. As he settled into the seat, his hands fell into place as though he belonged there. Vaugn took one final look at the mages below. There was a time he thought of them as the strongest of all Arusians, possibly even immortal. He understood now the sacrifice they took in creating the robot he had the privilege of piloting. Burning their images into his mind and hoping to bring justice to their sacrifice, Vaugn touched the button that closed the crest of Arus. Dim lighting filled the cockpit, and the panel before him powered up to become his view screen and his control monitor._

_Sealed within the mecha-armor, Vaugn closed his eyes as he cleared his mind, doing as he was instructed. He opened his heart and his soul. He brought forth all that made him angry and all that gave him joy. He let his head fall in regret and sadness and his heart soar with happiness and compassion. Finally, he felt his hands grasp the controls with determination._

_Opening his eyes, Vaugn was aware of his surroundings in a way that had nothing to do with watching the control monitors._

_**I know my purpose, Young Knight.**_

_Vaugn wasn't surprised by the voice that suddenly filled the cockpit. The Mages were known to bring about the impossible, and this was merely another marvel of the Arusian culture he took for granted._

_"Then, Voltron, we must save our planet before there is nothing left to save."_

Voltron pulled himself out of the deep and muddy abyss that held his memories. So much of his past had become fractured due to the passage of time and numerous structural repairs from injuries sustained in far too many battles. He couldn't remember much about the battles against the Xujan in the Xujan Invasion. He just remembered that it resulted in a victory that took many weeks and many knights to achieve. At some point, Voltron even lost track of how many centuries had passed between the time of his creation and the current era.

Holding tightly within the iridescent orb that was his heart, Voltron realized that he would always know the Mages of the Elements as they were each a part of him, having sacrificed pieces of their souls to become one being. Voltron knew that the process of his creation aged the humans considerably, bringing about their deaths much quicker than it should have, but it was a sacrifice they willingly took for the salvation of Arus.

Thoughts turning to his current pilots, Voltron reflected on the commander for a moment. Before their connection was entirely severed, Voltron attempted to pass along to him his memories of the Mage War. It was the first and only time that Voltron had to hide within his heart, and he hoped the commander understood how crucial that knowledge was about his concealed heart within the Black Lion. Unfortunately, in the agonized disorientation that occurred after being struck by the dissolution spell, it was difficult to know what the commander would remember. The human was far too consumed with regret for having harmed his betrothed.


	18. Chapter 18

_Author's Notes_: If at any point in the next few chapters, I have gone past the rating of T, please let me know. I do not want to have to go into an M rating, but as the tale needs to be told, things are happening within it that I could only dilute so much without the story losing its potency.

As always…

I hope I continue to do justice to the characters and the series of _Voltron_, and I ask for no flames, please. However, I will accept constructive criticism in order to develop further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I own nothing. I make no money. I only write about what I enjoy.

Chapter 18 – A Candle in the Darkness

The chains ground into Keith's wrists as he pulled against them again. It was the only way he could keep the fatiguing numbness in his arms and shoulders from overtaking him. He calculated that he had his arms tautly stretched outward from his sides for at least a couple hours now. His folded knees started cramping once more beneath his weight, but he had been working on ignoring that, too. Keith knew the way he was shackled was a prisoner tactic used to put the captive into mental submission. If the captive was already thinking subserviently, with the body portraying the position of helplessness, then the interrogator's job usually went easier.

However, Keith could care less about what the tactic was supposed to do. He had to remain strong for Allura. If he lost hope or gave in to any of his pain or fears, he would take the two of them down together.

Focusing his eyes on her, Keith refused to look away. She had become his reason for sustaining the discomfort.

Detained in the same cell, Keith and Allura were given the torturous privilege of facing each other. Allura had been placed in a seated position on the floor, and her arms were pulled around a wide metal pillar, where her wrists were held in place with a set of shackles. She tucked her legs as comfortably to her left side as she could. However, with not being able to stretch them fully, she had begun to feel the annoying numbness of pins and needles.

Cold, stone walls flanked them on the one side, but metal bars stretched behind them and outward toward the hallway. The light in their small prison was not as dim as it should have been. For whatever reason, their cell was given an extra round of torches, and it seemed as though their captor wanted them to be able to see everything going on around them. The touch of brightness, however, gave Keith the advantage of studying the layout of where they were while he had waited for Allura to awaken earlier.

Also, Keith had examined the arch to which he was chained, and the structure was welded tightly into the ceiling and the floor. The main hallway was to his right, Allura's left. Every so often, he would look across to the empty cell as he heard the sound of dripping water or rodents scurrying through.

Now, however, he concentrated his eyes on Allura, refusing to look away at any distraction. He saw that her eyes were frightened, but she was not going to cry. Locks of her golden hair had fallen loose around her head, and every time she moved her face, more tendrils slipped free from the bun at the back of her head. For a brief moment, Keith allowed himself the memory of what the soft tresses felt like when he ran his fingers through her hair. Then, the sharp pain in his shoulders reminded him that the distance between them of five mere feet was agony for the inability to do anything to free each other.

Allura's heart pinched as she watched Keith pull again on the chains, small cuts forming on his wrists from the rough edge of the rusted metal, and she tried not to think about the blood from the previous captives that had caused the shackles to become rusted. Her stomach lurched for a moment while she forced aside the horrific pictures that suddenly conjured in her imagination.

Looking again to Keith's dark irises, Allura forced her eyes not to wander to the tarnished uniform of the Voltron commander as the dungeon's grime had destroyed the white-colored purity of it. Despite the gloomy scene of which they were forcibly involved within, Allura watched the intensity of Keith's eyes. He was concentrating on something she couldn't see but knew she was a part. It kept her from giving in to her frightened tears, and if he could sustain his sanity, she would not be a frightened child.

Allura took a quiet breath, her mind still trying to piece together what had happened. Earlier, they had both awakened to unimaginable headaches, and it took a long time before they could clear the pain away enough to think coherently. After they had finally gotten some of their sanity back, she and Keith spent a while discussing what they did remember of the battle. They both could recall their Lions crashing down to the ground on Arus, and the intense electricity that seemed to kill them. But instead of meeting death, they were virtually unharmed and had become prisoners of the Drule.

Keith, as always, could detail the battle, even to the moment when he received that split-second, but too-late, clarity that cutting through the robeast would sever Voltron. He then remembered pain so intense that he never expected to live. After that, his thoughts were completely blank from falling unconscious. Neither he nor Allura could recall what happened to Lance, Hunk, or Pidge. They didn't know if the others were still alive or had been taken captive as well. It seemed that one minute the five of them were with Voltron, taking down the robeast that had attacked the planet. The next, Keith and Allura found themselves chained in a dungeon five feet away from each other. They were so close but too far away.

Screams of a tortured man echoed from down the hallway. For a heartbeat, Keith and Allura tried to determine if the scream had come from any of their friends. When they didn't recognize the vocal sounds, they breathed a selfish sigh of relief. However, that moment of relief was quickly diminished as the sound of crunching bones and the strike of a merciless whip followed. Allura squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could move her hands to cover her ears.

"Stay with me!" Keith suddenly shouted as he jerked forward. "Look at me, Allura."

She shook with terror, forcing herself to look again to Keith. As she studied him, she relived the past few months in which their relationship had evolved considerably. They were no longer simple comrades and friends, and they had long passed the stage of innocent courting, as they were secretly married, a husband and wife in concealment.

Now, however, Keith was not her husband in the moment, but the commanding officer, keeping his soldier from coming undone.

"Someone's being tortured," Allura whispered as though speaking it loudly would bring the same fate to the two of them.

"Don't look around," Keith said calmer, more controlled. He knew he had to keep her from unraveling, for he feared if she broke, he would be right behind her. "Just focus. Until one of the Drule come in here and tell us what they want, you just stay with me."

Allura looked and felt defeated. "I'm not trained like you. I can't…"

Keith cut her off sharply as the ache of his shoulders and back pierced through him. His voice was commanding, as though issuing an order. "Whether you're a princess or a pilot, you still have people on Arus to protect. Think of them and what you would do to keep them from harm."

He then took a breath, suppressing the growl in his throat at the pain that ran through his shoulders from when he jerked his body quickly to get her attention. Allura did not deserve to see the side of him that he always kept controlled, the side of him that wanted to cry out in agony, and it was not because he was trying to impress her with being masculine. It was because if he gave in to the pain, he knew she would break before their interrogator even walked into their cell, and he would be damned if he would be cause of Allura giving up her planet.

Footsteps echoed through the dungeon, growing louder as they came closer. Allura took a trembling breath, fearing that their interrogator had finally come to them to inflict whatever torture he wished. Her eyes watched the shadows in the hallway as the steps passed by their cell. Two guards dragged a battered alien body past Keith and Allura's small prison. One of the prisoner's yellow arms was twisted awkwardly, signs it had been broken, and fresh scoring from a whip marked a bare, scaled back. Neither Keith nor Allura recognized the alien race, and the prisoner was thrown into a cage somewhere past their view.

The two guards turned and walked past Keith and Allura's cell. One of the guards smiled strangely at Keith as though he knew something about his fate but was holding it secret for his own amusement. The other guard eyed up the princess, and a frightening gleam passed through his yellow irises.

"The royal prisoners always seem to have a protective barrier around them," the guard muttered to his companion in frustration as they continued to move down the hallway.

"Lotor said that no one is to touch her," the other replied.

"Exactly. I'm tired of the plain ones…" Whatever else the guards said had gotten drowned out in the distance.

Allura visibly shuddered, and she wished to scream to break out of the nightmare of which she was a part. Her eyes quickly turned back to Keith, where she saw something dark and hateful pass in his irises as he watched the empty spot where the guards had walked.

As though waking from a long away vision, Keith turned his attention back to Allura. His dark eyes were soft and compassionate once again. Whatever hatred he had was not directed at Allura but at those who wished to bring her harm.

Allura felt her throat grow tight while a lump blocked her breath, and her chest grew heavy. The urge to cry had overcome her, and it took all her strength not to give into any of the tears. Her thoughts suddenly muttered a prayer, something she didn't take the time to do lately. _Gods above_ _give us strength. Save us from this._

"Stay focused, Allura," Keith said gently, regretful for nearly allowing his angered helplessness to get the better of him. He knew that she needed him, and he if continued to fall into that vengeful pit, Allura would break. "Stay with me."

She nodded silently, unable to suppress the feeling of her hopes slowly fading away. She prayed the nightmare would end soon and that she would awaken to find herself back home in her warm bed. Further still, she willed her wish to have her awaken in Keith's arms, where he would comfort her from her nightmare and assure her that it was nothing more than dream images.

-- -- -- -- --

"Invading Planet Doom wasn't exactly what we had in mind when Princess Allura and I wrote up that agreement," Prince Dirin said as he led Hunk, Pidge, and Lance down the hallway from the docking area.

The three Voltron Force members were still wearing their white uniforms, each with a small carry-sack and their helmets attached to the sacks. The transport ship that was sent to pick them up had arrived within a couple hours, giving each of them just enough time to pack some essentials. The Lions were still in the process of being relocated to the Castle of Lions when Dirin arrived, and Coran had assured Lance that he and the castle guards could finish the task.

Forty minutes after Lance and the others had boarded the transport ship, they landed safely onto Dirin's personal command ship, the _Noble Sentinel_. Lance had no complaints about the punctual monarch. Apparently, Dirin wasted no time when he received the distress call from Coran, and the prince deployed the first transport he could.

"And, I doubt that Princess Allura intended for you to be asked such a request," Lance agreed. "But, the harsh reality is that Arus is virtually defenseless. The Castle of Lions only has so much firepower. They wouldn't last long against an invasion fleet and would have no chance against a Robeast. We need to get Keith and the princess back if there's going to be any chance of getting Voltron back together."

Dirin continued to lead the group, growing silent and thoughtful for a moment as they walked. The command ship they were on was the largest military vessel the Voltron Force had even seen. Dirin didn't have time to give the Voltron Force a tour, but while they were on the transport craft, the navigation officer had given each of them a small datapad, outlining highlights of the space-worthy city. The portable screens offered a virtual tour of the _Noble Sentinel_, providing them with some specifications about the housing quadrant and which amenities would be useful for their stay on board.

The datapads had been programmed to restrict details of weaponry, but they did offer general knowledge about the mechanic's stations, the navigation room, the bridge, and the hangar bays. The program even presented a safety warning for guests to avoid the hangar bays, demonstrating with animatronics how a body could be suctioned out into space when the bay shielding was lowered.

Lance held back his snicker again at the thought of the roughly drawn body being sucked out of the _Noble Sentinel_. Looking at Dirin, he then suppressed his urge to toss out the wisecrack regarding how the thin, silver crown around Dirin's head clashed with the dark blue flight-suit like uniform he wore. Lance stopped himself before speaking blindly, controlling his impulse to tell the prince he looked like an eighties reject with the grease-monkey clothing and the flashy headband. However, that would not only be an insult to Prince Dirin, but the monarch wouldn't understand the references anyway. Besides, Dirin had ordered an armada of his ships to take strategic placements in Arus' orbit. Despite how the prince dressed, Lance found his respect growing for Dirin, especially since the prince had also ordered patrols of his Condor fighters to do scheduled sweeps around Arus. For all intents and purposes, Dirin had taken on the task of protecting Arus, and as they walked down the corridor of the _Noble Sentinel_, they were already on a steady course to Planet Doom.

Hunk glanced sideways, his eyes passing over the oval-shaped viewport windows as they walked. He was only half listening to Lance and Dirin as they continued down the long hallway. The darkness of space had caught his attention, and it seemed unusually bright with the stars twinkling wildly throughout the viewport windows. When he had taken cross-galaxy trips in his Yellow Lion, it was different. The viewport in the Yellow Lion was much smaller, making the galaxy seem tiny and manageable. He realized that was how they were as a team. They were a small group, but nothing seemed impossible for them. As Hunk looked out the full-sized windows and into the vastness of the galaxy, he was left wondering if the task of getting their friends back was as immeasurable as the space outside the viewport.

Pidge felt his eyes wander hopelessly at the sheer technology they were now lost within. He found it was easier to comprehend the foreign technology than to think about what Lotor might do to the princess and Keith. His imagination could get the better of him at times, and this was one of those images he didn't want continuing to loop in his mind. Focusing instead on the information he received from the datapad he was given while on the _Noble Sentinel_, Pidge realized that the electronic illustrations didn't give justice to the massive ship. The hallways alone were wide, the ceilings high. And, although the _Noble Sentinel_ wasn't attached to any ancient wisdom or a magical life force, it fascinated him in a way he hadn't known since before he came to Arus. Pidge felt like a kid again back in school, staring in awe at the keypads, the monitors, and the pathway to information he could only wonder was behind every computer screen. He hoped that Dirin would give him some time eventually to tinker through the systems and freely be allowed to learn whatever knowledge he could find, but he knew that the Fedmar Military harbored many secrets about their technology so such a wish would never be fulfilled.

"I'm not just going to launch a full-scale invasion, Lance," Dirin finally continued, after having taken a few minutes to think carefully about how to advise the Voltron Force of his plans without upsetting them. "I can provide a special operations team to do the rescue. It would be the least invasive, and I know my teams will see to it that the Drule have no knowledge of their existence on their planet."

"That's all I'm looking for," Lance replied, visibly relieved. "It'd be Russian Roulette to fire down upon the Drule and hope that Keith and the princess aren't lost in the crossfire."

Dirin stopped walking for a moment. He arched an eyebrow in curiosity, experimentally repeating the phrase. "Russian Roulette?"

Lance took a patient breath and halted. Ever since he came to Arus, he found himself explaining more Earthen phrases than he ever imagined. Apparently, "Russian Roulette" would be another one he'd have to put into his unwritten Lance-Translation book. "It means a risk…"

Dirin smiled. "You don't have to explain. I understand. Firing a loaded blast-pistol with a low battery in the dark might hit the blade-viper and kill it or it might make it angry and become more of a threat."

"Something like that," Lance conceded, actually surprised that he didn't have to delve into the meaning of one of his slang phrases.

Dirin started moving again. "Let's brief the special operations team on what you know of Planet Doom. Then, we'll work on how to rescue Keith and Princess Allura."

-- -- -- -- --

"And just what has Lotor devised to do with his new prisoners?" Zarkon asked as he stood from his throne atop the steps in the grand chamber of Castle Doom. The day was drawing to a close, and he was grateful to be done with the ceremonial duties of being a king. The throne chamber had quieted down, leaving only the royal guards, Zarkon, and Haggar in the room. The habitual flunkies and admirers took their leave, hoping to find themselves in better graces the following day. Zarkon internally cringed at the circus that the silent chamber would become in the morning. He knew he should be accustomed to it by now, but he preferred his quiet. Casually holding the finger-pointing scepter in his right hand, he glanced to the witch as she arose from her advisory seat. Then, he slowly began the descent down the stairs.

Haggar angled herself beside Zarkon at a respectable distance and walked with him. She refused to be entirely behind the Drule ruler, but she knew that since she was only an advisor, she was not worthy of being beside him in such a manner. In the Drule protocols of royalty, that place was reserved only for the king's companion. At some point Haggar realized she was content in her current role as royal sorceress and advisor. She didn't wish to meet the same fate that Lotor's mother had, and she sensed that the risk of being executed on Zarkon's whim would be more likely if she became his companion.

"Lotor told me that he wants to inflict his revenge on the commander," Haggar answered, pulling herself out of her brief reverie. "I know that he plans to present the princess to you as his willing bride."

Zarkon laughed as he reached the bottom of the throne room stairs. He turned to the witch and realized that he had always been grateful for her reverence, yet he was strangely cautious of her ambitions. However, there was something different about Haggar lately, as though she was finally satisfied and comfortable. Years ago, he knew she wanted more than just an advisory role. Then it occurred to him that she had the satisfaction of defeating Voltron, and her greatest ambition had finally been accomplished.

Getting himself back to the subject, Zarkon shook his head, "Allura will never willingly be with Lotor. Hasn't he learned yet that if he wants her, he needs to just take her?"

Haggar smiled in the shadow of her cloaked hood. The Drule monarch had his own unique way of sensing the intentions of those around him, and Haggar could never fully comprehend why Zarkon never trusted her loyalty. Haggar hoped now that she was able to be confident with herself in a new way, Zarkon would not feel so threatened.

"Lotor's mother left him a sliver of nobility," Haggar observed.

"Do not speak of her, Witch!" Zarkon suddenly commanded as he came to a stop in the hallway. Then, his body slumped slightly. To the ordinary passerby, nothing about his posture changed, but Haggar could see his body's moment of defeat as though he had lost a war. His voice was quieter now. "My betrayer should never be spoken of again."

Haggar suddenly understood the king's distrust in her. Zarkon will go to his grave believing that Lotor's mother had betrayed him, and it broke his trust with the female gender as a whole. "My Lord, I meant no insult, just a fact we both cannot deny. Lotor simply wants Allura to accept his proposal. For whatever reason, he cannot just take her as he could a slave girl. I think he has a strange respect for Allura's birthright as a princess. I believe if she had been a commoner, Lotor would have simply taken her as you suggest."

Zarkon sighed quietly before he began walking again. "Logically, I know and understand that. I just wish I could erase Lotor's memory of his mother. Her betrayal has done nothing but put Lotor at odds with me. He and I should have been conquering the galaxy together, not bickering over the measly world of Arus and its ruler. Had Alfor left behind a prince, that planet would have belonged to me years ago."

"I believe that Allura will bring about a change in Lotor, for the better," Haggar offered as they continued down the hallway that led to their separate rooms.

"You have more faith in that boy than I do," Zarkon replied. "I see the princess as nothing but an anchor to weigh him down. He should be pursuing a warrior to help him conquer, not a fragile girl who needs her friends to consistently save her."

Haggar cocked her head while she walked with Zarkon as though listening to a sound only she could hear. Somewhere in the back of her awareness was the vision she had been seeing, and as she talked with Zarkon, splinters of it fell silently onto the imaginary floor within her mind. The fragments tried to form a picture, but Haggar could not see the image. Instead, she could only sense emotions. "I cannot explain it, but the princess will bring about a strength that is deep within Lotor. If he can harness it, he will become powerful."

"You are rarely proven wrong when you have such visions, Haggar," Zarkon conceded. "What of the betrayer who is after Lotor?"

"The traitor's scent grows stronger with every passing moment, and I sense a revelation of the conspirator before too much longer."

Zarkon turned to the witch, abruptly stopping their walk. He stared hard into her yellow irises. "Find out who this betrayer is and see to it that he is brought before me. I want to personally kill him myself."

Haggar met his stare with determination and comprehension. "It shall be done, Sire."

Zarkon allowed his eyes to linger on the witch for a few seconds. He saw nothing but blunt truth and that she would see his wishes were abided. For as much as they both admonished Lotor and his lack of patience at times, they had accepted their role in Lotor's life. Zarkon hoped the boy would some day come to realize that they took a great sacrifice in becoming his mentors as well as being his parents.

Satisfied that Haggar would never betray him, Zarkon turned and continued down the hallway, where he disappeared.

Haggar spun in the opposite direction and headed toward her chamber. The faint taste of betrayal was bitter in the air, and Haggar knew the time had come for her to begin her meditations. She would follow that bitter taste until she found the rotting soul from where the stench had developed.


	19. Chapter 19

_Author's Notes_: I blame this delay on a nasty upper respiratory infection and a case of writer's block, which sadly forced my interest to wane in Voltron for a couple weeks. I was also stuck on a couple minor concepts and spent countless hours arguing with myself as to which direction those concepts should take.

Special Thanks to MustangAce for taking the time to double-check this chapter for me. I was not happy about my poor grammatical quality in Chapter 18, and I apologize for the mistakes that were posted. I have since replaced that chapter with better revisions.

As with the previous chapter, however, I must ask that if I have gone past the rating of T, please let me know. I do not want to have to go into an M rating, but as the tale needs to be told, things are happening within it that I can only dilute so much without the story losing its potency.

As always…

I hope I continue to do justice to the characters and the series of _Voltron_, and I ask for no flames, please. However, I will accept constructive criticism in order to develop further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I own nothing. I make no money. I only write about what I enjoy.

Chapter 19 – The Cavalry Cometh

Prisoners had been moved about the hallway. Some were injured after a beating, and others were just being moved for whatever reason the guards decided. Time seemed to drag forever, and it was getting to the point that Keith wasn't sure if he liked the idea of being forgotten or if he wanted to face their warden just so he could have something to do.

Allura had eventually grown accustomed to the happenings around them. Even the sound of the prisoners undergoing torture had become numb to her. She realized there was nothing she could do to save them, and concentrating on her own sanity and strength was more important. She silently vowed, however, that one day she would find a way to free the captives of the Drule prison.

Heavy boots stepped deliberately with purpose, as though slowly savoring each movement. The sound of the feet grew louder, and it piqued Keith and Allura's curiosity. They took a heavy breath and brought their eyes to the locked section of the cage that was the door. The shadow on the hallway wall showed a man with a strong build and wild hair. One of the prisoners cried out, "The Demon of Death!" before scurrying into his corner.

Keith's hands instinctively balled into fists, and he closed his mind off from the annoying pain and numbness that had overtaken his body. He knew exactly who this "Demon of Death" was.

Lotor stood before the cage and took a moment to study his captives. His voice was sarcastically pleasant. "Welcome to Planet Doom. I trust you found the accommodations acceptable?"

Allura couldn't hold back her anger or her fear as her concern for those she cared for overrode those emotions. "What have you done to Voltron and where is the rest of the Force?"

Lotor slowly opened the lock on the cage door and stepped inside. Standing watch outside the small jail was one of the two guards who had passed by earlier. His body stood at attention, but his eyes were ever-present upon the princess.

"Voltron is dead," Lotor said confidently, "and with any luck so are your friends."

Black hatred passed through Keith irises, but he fought to keep his emotions suppressed. He could not play into Lotor's psychological game.

"You're lying!" Allura snapped. She would not believe any of Lotor's words unless he had proof.

"I don't want to hear about Voltron anymore," Lotor said as knelt before Allura. His yellow eyes studied her, watching the hatred that blazed beneath her blue irises at him. Wistfully, Lotor brushed his fingers against Allura's cheek, his voice sounding sincere. "I hope soon to offer you better accommodations, Princess."

She tried to pull from his hand but found the pillar and the shackles gave her nowhere to move. "Stay away from me."

"There's nowhere to run now, my princess. It's time to just accept your fate and take my offer to become my queen."

Allura now understood why Keith had strongly told her to remain focused. Lotor did not know of her secret marriage, and if she accidentally offered it, then there was no telling what Lotor would do. Playing it safe, she merely asked, "And, if I don't?"

Lotor turned suddenly toward Keith and brought a fist to the commander's face.

Keith felt the pain blast over his cheek and lip. Instinctively, his body tried to move to lessen the blow, but that only resulted in wrenching his shoulders. The pain he had been hiding suddenly released in an agonized groan.

Lotor spun back to Allura, his lips in a twisted sneer. "I will spare your commander no mercy as I avenge my defeats."

Allura pulled against her restraints, watching the blood trickle down Keith's face from the split lip. She lifted her eyes to Lotor. "This is beneath even you."

The Drule prince mulled over once again the plans he had for them. He wanted Allura to willingly become his queen, his companion. He smiled triumphantly at the inspiration of using the commander as leverage to force Allura into giving him that all-elusive yes. Initially, Lotor thought about just killing the Earthen pilot, but he wanted to offer Allura one final chance to accept his offer by her own will.

Lotor again brought his yellow eyes to Keith, and the thought of turning him into a robeast in front of Allura crossed his mind once more. Such an act would have been the ultimate betrayal of the commander to his friends. Then, Lotor realized that it would not be nearly as satisfying. The prince wanted to inflict his own punishment onto the commander himself.

"Choose your fate very carefully, Allura," Lotor said as he looked to her once more. "You are in no position to demand anything."

Turning to Keith again, Lotor addressed him with an evil glean in his eyes. "Enjoy your last bit of sanity, Commander. I have a scheduled beating with a slave who decided he didn't like his accommodations or his master. As soon as I'm done with that, I'll return to finish this one way or another."

Quietly, Lotor and his guard left the cell, locking it behind them. As soon as they were both gone and from earshot, Allura shook her head trying to control the tears in her eyes. "This can't be the end. He has no right."

"This is _not_ the end," Keith said roughly, his voice the commander once again. "We don't know what happened to the others. We have to believe in Lance, Hunk, and Pidge."

Allura closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She was jumping to conclusions, and she was falling into the mental trap Lotor wanted. She opened her eyes again, knowing Keith was nearby. She was not alone to suffer through the horrible demands that Lotor wanted to force upon them.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly.

Keith felt his heart ache for her. She was not raised or trained to undergo interrogations or torture. She had been raised sheltered. Nanny and Coran trained her to understand diplomacy. No one ever prepared her for the brutalities of war.

His voice was calm, full of compassion. "We are in a very dangerous situation. I'm not going to promise we'll get out of this. But, I'm not going to leave you if I can help it. Whatever Lotor has planned," he paused as though convincing himself not to falter, "we have to remain strong."

Keith's words filled Allura with resolve. She was grateful he was with her. She was more certain than ever that their secret devotion was the right thing. There was no one else she could ever imagine being with her.

"Don't say it," he whispered. He could see in her sapphire eyes that she wanted him to hear the words they only spoke when alone. "It's far too dangerous here."

"I know," she answered. "Thank you."

A mournful scream suddenly drowned out all the noises around them. The sickening crunch of bones was followed by another heart-breaking cry of agony.

Keith took a deep breath, his dark eyes seeming to go someplace far away for a moment. He was going to need his strength to survive this. Putting all his faith into Lance and the others, he silently prayed that Allura would remain strong. He prayed even harder that he would remain strong. If either of them broke, the other would give in to Lotor. Arus was left without them and Voltron, and they had to do what they could to protect the innocent lives on that planet.

Keith thought about what Lotor said about killing Voltron. Then, the centuries-old battle memories came to Keith's mind. It was the final battle in The Mage War, he suddenly realized as the images played again, as clearly as they had when he first saw them. Keith knew now that Voltron had showed him that for a reason. Understanding the purpose of the vision, Keith opened his eyes and looked to Allura.

"Voltron gave me one of his memories before I passed out," he whispered, sounding like the commanding officer again. He allowed the sounds of the torture down the hallway to cover his words. "There's a chance Voltron's not dead. If he managed to get his spirit to the protective heart within Black Lion, he can eventually be brought back."

"What do you mean?" Allura asked.

"The Mage War," Keith explained, "In the final battle of it, Voltron was struck down by a renegade Mage who tried to kill him, just as Haggar tried to do earlier. But, there's a protective heart in the Black Lion where Voltron can hide."

Allura seemed to straighten, remembering her studies. "After the Mage War, Voltron became useless, and there was concern that the time had come to dismantle him. The last of the Mages had perished in the war, and along with them any spell to resurrect Voltron. At that time, the queen of Arus decided that instead of dismantling him, she would give Voltron a proper burial by resting the body in a mausoleum."

Understanding dawned on Allura's face, and she stopped for a moment. Then, she spoke again, explaining to Keith her revelation. "No one back then knew about his heart. They didn't know it existed or how to awaken him. Voltron miraculously arose hundreds of years later, only to be magically separated by Haggar's magic. When my father found the five Lions, he brought Voltron to life once again, but with science."

Keith looked at Allura with firm resolve. "We have to make sure we find a way to bring Voltron back, whether it's with magic or science."

-- -- -- -- --

Lance closed his eyes and took a heavy breath. The dark gray clothing he wore felt foreign and tight. He felt hot in it but mostly due to his own imagination and nerves trying to get the better of him. The fabric itself was cool and comfortable, and it adapted to whatever climate the wearer was in.

The gentle rumble around him reminded Lance that he was now on a small transport shipped, dubbed _The Falcon's Blade_. The vessel was only large enough to carry about eight passengers, their supplies, and an armory of weaponry and shielding. The _Noble Sentinel_ had remained safely stationed out of the range of Planet Doom's radar. She was close enough to signal if things got complicated, but far enough away as to pose no threat to Doom.

Lance allowed his thoughts to drift back to the briefing they had with the special operations team, Shadow Squad. None of the squad had wanted to allow any of the Voltron Force to accompany them on the mission to rescue Keith and Princess Allura. However, Lance argued that with the exception of the princess, he and the rest of the Voltron Force had been in the prisons of Planet Doom, and that they could navigate out from it again if there were any problems. Of course, the leader, who went simply by Chief, refused to accept civilians on the mission. And, Chief made it very clear that he thought of the Voltron Force as merely civilians, despite their military training at the space academy. Chief didn't feel that any space academy could adequately train for military action.

Aged somewhere in his late thirties or early forties, Chief was the epitome of what a soldier looked like. He had the usual military short, blonde hair, and his brown eyes were always focused, thinking ahead to every possible scenario. During the exchange, Chief made a valid point stating that Shadow Squad went in and out of places all the time that were unfamiliar, and they wouldn't be special operations if they couldn't. Lance felt chaffed by Chief's mightier-than-thou attitude, and it was one of the reasons why he hated special ops. They gave the impression of always being above everyone else. Yet, it was also the reason Lance gave them the deepest respect. Special ops were the ones to call when every last option had been exhausted.

Remaining in the memories of the briefing, Lance recalled how he compromised Chief to allowing just his own involvement in the mission. He began with a persuading argument in which he would know his friends' voices and mannerisms. Lance stressed rather strongly that there would be the possibility that Keith and Princess Allura might have been tortured or under mental and emotional strains. Should that have happened, Keith and the princess would need a familiar face and a familiar voice. Chief hadn't been entirely convinced until Lance lied about how he and Keith had an Earthen phrase that they used in the event of dire circumstances. He maintained the charade that it was their code phrase to pull each other out of any emotional shock that they might have sustained. Chief then considered the option of having Lance tell him the phrase, but in light of it, he realized that only the voice of his friend would trigger the response. It wasn't the phrase, so much as the manner in which it was spoken. None of Chief's team could argue that as they all had their own code phrases as well.

Prince Dirin had sat quietly among the exchange, knowing he had nothing particular to offer as he was not special ops trained. Chief had made it very clear that he did not like the idea of a civilian along for the ride, but even he could not deny the logic that Lance offered. Reluctantly, he gave Lance specific orders. "Stay close and don't get in the way."

Lance sighed again at the contradictory sound of it, but he knew without question what he was supposed to do. He would stay within the team's protection, and he was to let them run the mission. He was a figurative glass vase nestled inside a crate of bubble wrap, and he hated that thought.

A harmonious but soft voice suddenly broke into Lance's reverie. "Now, sweetie, if you're needing your beauty sleep, then you need to stay on the transport when we roll."

Lance felt a smile spread across his face at what sounded like a southern drawl from the only woman on the team. He opened his eyes to look at Jettie and take a moment to gaze at her dark irises, noting that their color was just a couple shades lighter than the black hair she wore in a tight braid twisted at the back of her head. The dark gray suit she wore was not extremely tight as it was filled with weapons and unknown gears an assassin would carry. Yet, the suit was not so loose that it completely hid her feminine beauty.

"I wasn't sleeping," Lance admitted as his eyes fell once again onto the nasty blade she kept sheathed on her right hip. She had showed him the jagged edge during their briefing earlier, and issued a teased warning that he would be best to listen to them during the mission or else he might be meeting the uncomfortable side of it. Sighing quietly, Lance pulled himself from that light-hearted attempt at breaking the tension earlier in the day. He thought once again about the purpose of the mission. "I just hope we find Keith and the princess okay."

Jettie stepped back from him and nodded her head quietly. "Ah, you were praying. Forgive my intrusion, then."

Lance sat up straight, aware that Jettie was extremely considerate of the ritual of prayer and meditating. He didn't want her to think she interrupted something revered that he wasn't actually doing. "Praying is a bit too strong of a word…"

"You won't need any prayers with us around," Pops interrupted as he spoke up from his seat across from Lance. "But, you should be praying for your own sake." Pops was an obvious veteran of the special units. He was only in his early forties, but he may as well be one hundred with the amount of experience that exuded from him. The nasty scars on his face told of a man who had sacrificed a lot for his team, and he would continue to do so. Lance had asked him earlier if his name was because of his experience. Pops laughed and told him that his name had nothing to do with age, but how he could "pop" anything that came his way.

Turning in his seat to meet Lance's eyes, Pops looked hard at the Voltron lieutenant. "Chief initially said he didn't want a civilian on this mission, and I tend to agree with him. If you cause us to fail, I'll use your skinny hide for a vest, understood?"

"Leave the youngin' alone," Jettie admonished as she smacked Pops across the arm.

Lance offensively leaned forward, "Youngin? Hey, I'm nearly twenty-f…"

"And, the rest of us are at least thirty-six in standard years," Pops interrupted. He rolled his eyes briefly after catching a nasty glare from Jettie. "Except for the beautiful Jettie, who insists she's still thirty." Pops leaned forward as though trying to be confiding with Lance. "Look, kid, you may be experienced as a pilot and know your way around in that mecha-contraption you fly, but what we do is an entirely different world."

"Pops, give the flyboy a break, will you? Don't give him the impression that we're all just a bunch of heartless, gore-seeking buffoons," Shepherd chimed in from the pilot's seat. His light, brown hair was short and wavy, and charisma twinkled from his green eyes. Shepherd was the team's transportation expert and medic. If there was something to hot-wire or a person who needed mending, Shepherd was there to make it happen.

Changing his attention, Shepherd then addressed Lance. "Lieutenant, we may not know your friends, but I assure you that their safe return is our mission priority. Our concern with you along is because it's hard enough to protect ourselves. Adding in a civilian, so to speak, puts our attention at a divided risk we wouldn't otherwise have. Now, all I know is that the prince vouched for you and that means you and your friends have impressed him greatly. He only sticks his neck out like that when he's been earned some kind of trust. In order to sustain that trust, you'd be best to be sure you and your friends return in one piece as that would be the kind of gratitude His Highness would expect in return for his generosity."

"Well put, Shepherd," Chief nodded from his seat at the far end of the transport. He never raised his eyes while he spoke. He simply continued to meticulously clean his blaster. "Now, we have less than a half-hour to finalize our plans and alternate solutions. I suggest we review them once more. Perfection is crucial to this mission."

"Cloaking activated," Shepherd announced, as the ship they were in now appeared on any radar as nothing more than an empty spot in space.

Jettie settled back into her seat and studied the small hand-held computer in her lap. She once again began reviewing the sketches they had made of the Doom dungeon. In addition to being the architectural authority, she was also the demolitions expert, and was trying to decide where to lay down charges in case they had to blow away parts of the castle in their escape…should all Hell break loose.

Each member of Shadow Squad suddenly morphed into disciplined soldiers. The casual talk and camaraderie faded as they became almost machine-like, once again scrutinizing every detail and every possible scenario. They fell into military language and code phrases, seeming to be a precisely tuned engine.

Lance settled back into his seat again. He knew his role in this mission and silently repeated his instructions once more: _Stay close and don't get in the way_. It was the hardest order he would ever have to obey. When it came to people he considered his family, he would willingly walk though Hell if it would get them back safely. Now, he would have to sit idle when his friends needed him most. He wasn't sure he could obey that order, and he hoped he would have no reason to defy it.


	20. Chapter 20

_Author's Notes_: Thanks so much to everyone for pushing me with this chapter! I couldn't possibly have gotten it done as quickly as I did if it wasn't for all the encouragement. Much of my problem is that I have scenes written in broken segments, and I have to find ways to smoothly seam them together while keeping in mind the evolution of the story.

As with the previous chapter, however, I must ask that if I have gone past the rating of T, please let me know. This should be the last chapter with regards to my concerns about if I have delved into an M rating. Again, I could only dilute so much without the story losing its potency.

As always…

I hope I continue to do justice to the characters and the series of _Voltron_, and I ask for no flames, please. However, I will accept constructive criticism in order to develop further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I own nothing. I make no money. I only write about what I enjoy.

Chapter 20 – A Traitor's Revelation

"Promise me that no matter what happens, you will resist Lotor," Keith said staring hard into Allura's blue eyes. He couldn't even begin to fathom what kind of agony Lotor would bestow upon him, yet he would have no choice but to force himself to endure it.

Shaking her head, Allura took a quiet breath. "I can't promise that…"

Keith suddenly switched into commander mode. He was in too much pain already to argue about it. "Then, I'm making it an order."

Allura tried to sit up straight, her eyes shifting into a glaze of pure stubbornness. However, Keith recognized her look of challenge and continued talking before she would have a chance to debate him. "We have to do what is best for the people of Arus. I won't believe that Lance and the others are dead. My gut is telling me they're working on something, but we need to stall in order for their plan to happen. Once you give in to Lotor, that chance for their plan is lost."

"Keith," she pleaded as she felt him snub out her stubborn fire, "I nearly fell apart when Lotor hit your face. Please don't make me have to endure beyond what I can."

The commander closed his eyes and took a patient breath. He tried to think of being in her place and having to choose from between two ridiculous options. He was asking her to give up the last person to which she had any true devoted connection. If their roles were reversed, he couldn't bear the thought of watching her in pain and agony…or worse, her death, while he sat idly, knowing he could have prevented it.

Opening his eyes Keith forced himself to stay the course. They had to stall for Lance and the others. That's what his gut was telling him, and he would not give up that hope. Keeping his voice calm and even, Keith looked hard at Allura. "You need to stay strong and focused. Lotor needs to know that you are a dedicated leader first and foremost. I want you to think only of the people on Arus and how you're protecting them."

"But, I can't lose you," she whispered. "You're my…"

Keith cut her off sharply, stopping her before she said something that could endanger them even further. "Your people need you, and I don't care if you're a pilot, a princess, or a pauper. Voltron chose _you_, and that is reason enough for you to fight for Arus."

This time Allura knotted her hands into fists, sitting up as best she could against her restraints. Keith had managed to get her frustrated anger to surface, and it blazed furiously in her sapphire irises. "Voltron chose you, too. Do not try that argument with me."

"Damn it, Allura," Keith replied. "I hate this situation, too. If I could snap my fingers and have us back safely on Arus, I would. Now, what I need you to do is remember every last breath of anger you feel toward Lotor and keep that as your reason for refusing his wishes. Find somewhere inside yourself that you can go and hide. Look for a crack on the wall or a brick out of place that will be your focal point. Then, you stay in your memories and look at nothing but that focal point."

Allura knew Keith was right, but could she just ignore any torture Lotor might take upon her husband, the man she _chose_ to love? Moments passed in silence while Allura struggled with the fact that she had to remain strong despite how Lotor would break her heart. She concentrated even more on mentally preparing herself to not reveal her secret marriage regardless of what Lotor would attempt.

Bringing her eyes to her husband, Allura sighed quietly.

"You can do this," Keith said gently. "You're strong, and I know it's what your father would want you to do."

"Such a noble sentiment," Lotor laughed suddenly. "I almost wish your father was still alive so that I could see his face as he looks upon you in my prison."

Startled, Keith and Allura jumped at the sudden voice. They wondered how long Lotor had been there and how much he had caught between them.

The guard pushed a small table toward the cell while Lotor opened the lock on the cage. Keith eyed up the various tools on the table that he could only fathom Lotor used for torturing the prisoners.

"Well, my princess," Lotor smiled as he stepped into the prison cell, "Have you an answer for me?"

Allura swallowed hard and felt her eyes glance over to Keith. She had decided their fate. As her eyes shifted to a spidering crack in one of the bricks, the prison around her melted away and became the old Castle of Lions she once inhabited as a child. A memory of her father came to her, and she was now a little girl again running through the hallways, engrossed in a game of "Seek and Catch" with him.

-- -- -- -- --

Haggar sealed the chamber door behind her as she entered her room. Coba raised his head from his snuggled position on the mat beside her bed. The witch crouched down to her devil cat and scratched behind his ears gently. From a pouch at her side, she offered the familiar a morsel of fresh meat that she had set aside from her meal.

Coba instantly began purring and gently took the offered food from his mistress, savoring the sweet-flavored meat.

"_Ve'she dolo b'enu_, Coba," Haggar whispered telling the feline to have a pleasant nap and a bountiful hunt after he awakens.

Coba settled down onto his mat again and watched with silent interest as Haggar began to light candles and burn musky-scented incense. The witch then moved to her meditation pillow and settled upon it. She allowed the candles to make shadows upon the walls as she inhaled the scent of the incense. After a few moments, her eyelids fell closed, and she felt herself drift into the surreal world of her meditations.

With each breath that she took, she fell further away from the conscious world. Slowly, the sensations of Lotor's betrayal began to grow even more imminent and close. The acrimonious stench around his aura developed a bitter taste in her mouth, but Haggar forced herself ignore it. Her mission was to discover a betrayer, not complain about a temporary sensation.

Images slowly swirled out of the mist contained by her mind, and the final battle flashed within her meditation. Voltron reared his head back as though in ultimate agony, and the Lions pulled away from each other, falling helplessly to the ground below. The spirit that had once flowed within each of the mechanical beasts suddenly sucked itself into the Black Lion.

Haggar felt herself frown for a moment. She tried to determine exactly what that meant, but the pictures shifted suddenly, and her understanding was lost while the new images grew clearer.

It started with a shroud of pink fabric, as though the thin material was blowing in a gentle breeze. Slowly, it layered into the full skirts of a gown, and Haggar realized it was Princess Allura pacing in a secluded room. The girl's face was concerned, but her emotions were running wild with excitement. Her fingers held a small cloth, an old piece of material given to her from a previous generation.

Haggar tried to distinguish the significance of the heirloom, but darkness and shadows took over the image.

Strangely, though, the emotions did not fade. Instead, pale images took shape within the darkness. Haggar distinguished the profiles of two faces, and the figures muttered unintelligible words in hushed mumbles. The soft, orange glow from candles subtly lit their profiles, gently illuminating the room in delicate brightness.

A vivid explosion of lightning flashed, and for a brief moment the figures were lit up in daylight. As clearly as if they were before her, Haggar saw Princess Allura and Commander Keith on their knees with hands clasped before them. There was a sincerity and a devotion to their emotions that emanated between them. A bond formed around them, an invisible union that could only be seen from the auras of their spirits.

The lightning flash receded, and the image of the princess and her commander faded into nothingness.

The darkness of a prison cell now took over. Haggar's original vision came to her once again as she saw Princess Allura in a position that forced her upon her knees. The young monarch's face was lined with tears of regret and anger while her heart was being torn into shreds, as everything she lived for was being destroyed.

Everything the princess loved was being equally destroyed. Her planet was dying, and her beloved Voltron was lying in scraps on the ground of Arus.

Everyone she loved…

Haggar suddenly paused and took a sharp breath, understanding the vision now of the princess and the commander. What she felt between them this time was how the warmth of their human hearts beat rapidly in a single rhythm. What she thought was unintelligible chatter were promises and vows. The bond around them came from the seal they created from a fateful kiss.

Silently, the crown of Arus fell to the floor where it laid as though dead, and the revelation became abundantly clear. The princess of Arus had secretly unified with a commoner and given up her title and her position. It was finally the missing link Haggar had been seeking to the visions. The unity between the young leaders had been hidden well, but not well enough.

Haggar understood now why her visions would not produce Lotor's betrayer earlier. Without the princess and commander's life energies nearby, she previously couldn't see the complete vision.

The witch suddenly opened her eyes, as she finally understood that it was the princess who would betray Lotor. The one thing he so longed to possess was no longer his to own.

"Survive it, my prince, and you will become stronger," Haggar whispered. "Your betrayal rests before you."

-- -- -- -- --

Keith felt his cheek start to swell from the blow that struck it. The cut on his lip opened again, trickling warm blood down his chin. He stared blankly before him for a moment, catching his breath. Then, his eyes caught sight of Allura as she stared into nothingness at an invisible spot on the wall. She refused to look before her, and her eyes were rimmed with tears. Some of those tears had spilled over her cheeks, silently falling to the dirty floor before her.

"You've been teaching her well, Commander," Lotor smirked. "In the past, before you and your friends arrived, she would have succumbed to my request before the first strike."

"The princess and Arus are not yours and never will be. You're wasting your time."

"I've just barely begun," the prince corrected. "She will give in once I find the right persuasion."

Moving to Allura, Lotor grasped her hair and forced her to look at him. "Stubbornness was your father's mistake. I expected you to have better sense than him."

"I have the sense to refuse any alliance with you," she muttered.

Suddenly, Lotor released Allura and spun to Keith. His boot landed hard into the commander's stomach.

Keith's body involuntarily tried to fall forward, but the chains kept him from moving. His pained cough filled the chamber.

Allura closed her eyes and tried to push the sound from her mind. When she opened her eyes again, she took a deep breath and studied the forked crack that was her focal point. She concentrated on the dirt that filled it and was scattered around it, trying to imagine what kind of creature made its home in the broken brick. She outlined the shape of the fractured brick with her eyes and studied every last grain of dirt within it.

"How can you not care about what you're doing to him?" Lotor asked Allura.

When she refused to acknowledge his question, he stepped next to her and forced her to look at Keith. "You can see he's in pain, and you're doing this to him. Just promise me Arus and your companionship, and his agony stops."

_I can't keep ignoring your pain much longer, Keith_, Allura thought silently. Her heart splintered at his swollen eye and the blood that spilled from his lip and nose onto his white uniform. Keith suddenly morphed into a blur before her as Allura's eyes filled again with tears. Her breath grew heavy as she tried to concentrate her efforts into remaining calm.

"Only you can stop this," Lotor whispered. "Until you say otherwise, I will continue."

Allura closed her eyes again, allowing the wave of tears to pass. She knew that Keith would not want her to give in for anything, as she had to think of her people and her planet first. Every part of her wanted to cry out to Lotor to stop hurting Keith, but there were thousands of people on Arus who needed her to protect them. They were the reason Keith told her to resist Lotor, and they were the reason why she was enduring a heart that was breaking with every sound of his pain.

The lifeless bodies from the recent raids of her planet suddenly flashed into Allura's mind, and it gave her the resolve she needed to remain steady. She hated Lotor now more than ever. He was incapable of kindness and his senseless attack on Keith was more than proof.

Opening her eyes finally, the broken brick became her focus again. Her tears slowed down, and she felt Lotor leave her. The echo of another punch filled the chamber, and her breath caught for a moment as she lost her concentration at the sound of Keith's groan. Then, she started counting the grains of dirt around the hole again.

She secluded herself in more memories. This time, she was with Keith in the darkened hallways of the castle. They dared glances when no one was paying attention, and they held hands in the cavern. When they escaped the world around them and could just be alone, Keith's fingers brushed her cheek and knotted in her hair. His lips touched hers bringing warmth and joy to her very soul. His arms protected her, wrapping her in an invisible shield where she was safe and loved. She was with him again the night they took secret vows, her memories recalling every word and syllable they shared in their promise to each other. She thought about how they had spent hours that night slowly becoming one as they explored their bodies to the symphony of a thunderstorm while it swept through the countryside.

Then, the sound of Lotor's blackened voice shattered those memories.

"What is this?" the prince asked as he pulled on a piece of cloth that was sticking out from Keith's belt.

Allura brought her eyes forward, the protection of her memories destroyed by the hatred in Lotor's voice. The Drule Prince was holding a handkerchief in his hand, Allura's gift to her husband. Lotor stared at it, holding it with curiosity, seeming to wonder if he would have ever known such a gift. Then, his eyes flashed with pure, blatant hatred. He knew the symbol of courtship, the token a princess would give to her knight.

"And, what has he given you, Allura?" Lotor asked. His voice was dark, unforgiving, and his yellow eyes were clouded with a hate so pure that Allura felt herself flinch.

Catching sight of something hanging near her hip as though sliding free, Lotor snatched the object.

Keith kept his eyes on Lotor. He recognized the photograph he had given Allura during their secret marriage. He got a cold, sick feeling as he watched the prince strangely assessing the items in his hands.

Allura felt her heart sink at the loss of the photograph. She only kept it with her to have Keith nearby when he couldn't be. It was foolish, she knew, but she couldn't bear to leave the wedding gift he gave her hidden in some stuffy box in the castle.

Lotor continued to study the picture, taking a moment to compare the images in the photograph to the commander. There was a connection in the physical features, and Lotor felt his blood instantly boil, as he understood just what the objects in his hands signified.

Looking to Allura, Lotor wanted to hear it from the princess. He wanted her to tell him with honesty that she had betrayed him. Lotor's bloodlust was boiling over, and he wanted to inflict torture, pain, and death. He wanted Allura to feel the hatred that he suddenly felt.

The Drule prince's voice grew even darker, dripping with the lust of violence. "Why do you carry this, Allura?"

She couldn't think of any reasonable answer that would calm him. His immoral hate-lust exuded off him like an inferno's heat, and she could feel it burning her from his near distance. Allura feared telling him the truth, but she feared even more that if she lied, it would invoke something even more terrible and unimaginable. Unable to find any words, Allura breathed in silent prayer, wishing she would awaken from this nightmare.

"Stubborn as always, Allura," Lotor growled. He brought the picture to one of the torches and held it above the flame so it smoked slightly. "What is it worth to you?"

Again, the princess' voice remained silent. She looked to Keith, wishing she could apologize for her foolish mistake. His eyes grew shades darker in a way that she had never seen as he watched Lotor slowly burn the photograph.

"She was going to put it in the castle vault for me when you decided to attack Arus," Keith lied.

Lotor dropped the picture into the flame. It slowly fell to the floor, still burning. The corners of the photograph began to curl and bend while black ash formed where the flame had passed. Without warning, Lotor landed a fist hard into Keith's face, opening a new cut on his cheek. "You don't lie well at all, Commander."

Keith closed his eyes and gritted his teeth as the pain seared through him again. The physical pain was one thing, but now Lotor had found a way to attack his very soul. The last physical object he had left of his parents had become nothing but an ashen mark upon a dungeon floor.

Lotor gritted his teeth, hatred spilling like the blood down Keith's chin. "Since she won't talk to me, tell me, Commander, why do you have her handkerchief?"

"My allergies acted up," he lied again.

"I'm not a fool!" Lotor shouted. Suddenly, he spun to the princess, blinded by rage, and the back of his hand came across her face. "A commoner! You unified with a commoner! You _harchok_! You were destined to me."

Allura squeezed her eyes closed and could no longer hold in her tears. The strike of the hand on her cheek was only a physical attack, something that would merely leave a bruise. In time, the injury would heal itself, and she could live with that. Allura could even live with the insult of being called a _harchok_ because she didn't care that Lotor considered her someone who sold her body for money. To her, it was only a Drule slur word, and she knew she was above that. She may have sacrificed her position as princess, but she was still a lady bred with intelligence and compassion.

The prince's discovery of her marriage, however, broke her. She betrayed Keith, and she betrayed their love. They had hidden the relationship from everyone but Lotor, despite all their precautions and careful planning.

"You bastard," Keith growled. He wanted one moment to be free, and he would suspend the pain in his body long enough to strangle Lotor with his bare hands. One minute was all he needed. He could not allow anyone to strike his wife or harm the woman he vowed to protect.

Lotor turned back to the man who stole his position as husband to Allura. He threw the handkerchief onto the floor and took the whip from the table that was placed just inside the prison cell. "Now, she can truly watch you suffer."

The sound of the whip echoed off the cell walls, and Keith's cries of pain shattered Allura's heart. She had no idea how many times the whip had struck, and she couldn't even imagine keeping count. His once-white uniform lay in bloodied tatters around him on the floor, and the sides of his shirt had turned pink from blood seeping into the torn clothing.

Allura was consumed by another wave of helpless tears.

Keith felt his head fall forward in agony. Every lash of the whip sent red-hot fire across his back, and he could feel the heat of his blood trickle down his skin. It felt warm and sticky in the few places where he still managed to have some feeling. The cold, dampness of the dungeon seeped into his cuts, chilling his bones. Sweat trailed down his body, the salt of it stinging in the open wounds of his back.

Lotor grasped Keith's hair and forced him to look at Allura. He leaned in beside him and spoke quietly. "She is no longer worthy of me because of your tainting. Once you are dead, the _harchok_ will be given to my loyal prison guard, the one who is standing outside this cell."

Keith's eyes flashed over to the guard that had earlier told his assistant that he wished for a royal woman, and as enraged hatred filled Keith, the torture of the whip was forgotten. He pulled with all the strength he could, hoping there was a rusty or broken link on the chains. He had to get free. He had to stop Allura from being subjected to such cruelty.

Lotor brought a fist into Keith's kidney, and the commander suddenly slumped with numbness.

"Stop this!" Allura screamed, as she couldn't take it anymore. She knew now that Keith had to be wrong about Lance and the rest of the Voltron Force coming. She could stall no longer, and she would willingly sacrifice herself to the Drule prince if it would spare her husband further agony. "I'll be your queen."

Lotor stood and slowly moved before Keith, addressing Allura. "I've given you more chances than I should have. Instead of aligning with me earlier as you should have, you lowered yourself to this insignificant commoner. You're no longer worthy of me, and Arus will be leveled to nothing. Now that Voltron is dead, it will be easy to destroy Arus and claim it under the Drule Empire."

Unexpectedly, Lotor sent a booted foot hard into Keith's ribs. The agony that filled the commander's torso told him all he needed about the broken bones in his ribcage. Then, without mercy, Lotor's fists and boots landed hard into Keith's back and stomach. A few more punches struck his face, bringing on new swelling and new open wounds.

After a while, Keith's breathing had become ragged and shallow. It was no longer possible to get the necessary air he needed when his ribs were bent awkwardly, closing off one of his lungs. It was hard to breathe when he couldn't even move from his slouched position, where his diaphragm was collapsed under his weight. He couldn't feel past the agony of the beating to be certain if the bruising inside his body had caused any internal bleeding. Unable to keep his head up, he had slumped in the only position the chains allowed him, his breathing an insufficient wheeze. He barely heard Allura crying when the blackness he fought against finally took him.

Exerted and gasping for air, Lotor stopped the physical attack on the Voltron commander. Sweat trickling down his face, Lotor was finally satisfied. If the commander survived longer than a day from the wounds he received, it would be a miracle from the gods of the underworld.

Allura felt her body shake with hatred. Her face was soaked with tears she never thought she would have to shed. Her eyes glanced to Keith, and her heart burst into shards. He looked dead, and she blamed herself. If only she would have put the picture in the safety of the fireplace with her parents' belongings, it might not have escalated to this point.

Lotor moved beside Allura and knelt on the floor. He took a moment to admire his handiwork on the Voltron commander. He didn't try to hide the disgust in his voice as he leaned to her ear. "After the commander is dead, you will be given to the guard, Graf. He had been begging for a royal _harchok_ for months now, and I think a used, former princess is better than no princess in his eyes. I suggest you pray your husband dies soon if you don't want to watch him suffer for long."

Then, Lotor was gone. Allura collapsed in defeat under the weight of the emotional pain. Her head hung in shame, and the tears that covered her face spilled to the ground, soaking the dirt. Everything in her life was gone. Everyone she ever loved would truly be gone. Her prediction of the monarchy dying had come true, but not at all in the way she had intended. Arus would become nothing more than a dust ball, and the monarchy of which she was once a part would disintegrate under the bombardment of Drule ships.

Footsteps sounded before Allura, and she raised her eyes reluctantly to the guard. Graf's smile was sickening and frightening. "Finally, a royal prisoner of my own. I waited this long, I think I can wait until he's dead."

Allura took a shuddering breath and brought her eyes to Keith. She knew exactly what his last dying wish was, and she was going to find a way to get free. Then, she was going to revive Voltron. What the Drule didn't know but she did was that Voltron's spirit was hibernating inside the Black Lion. Her mission now was to resurrect Voltron and stop the Drule before they destroyed anyone else's lives.

-- -- -- -- --

_Author's Additional Notes_: Keith's instructions for Allura to hide in her memories was inspired by two episodes of the TV series "The Unit" called _Pandemonium, Part 1 _and _Pandemonium, Part 2_, in which Mac was being tortured. He managed to survive it by living in the memories of his wife and family.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21 - Regrets

_Author's Notes_: Since this chapter will highlight the special operations team I created, Shadow Squad, I feel it is important to note that they would not exist without the inspiration I received while reading Karen Traviss' _Star Wars_ _Republic Commando_ novels.

As always…

I hope I continue to do justice to the characters and the series of _Voltron_, and I ask for no flames, please. However, I will accept constructive criticism in order to develop further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I own nothing of WEP or Voltron. However, I will take responsibility for Shadow Squad as well as any chaos and destruction they may cause. The citizens of Fedmar and their respective leader are also mine. In short, I make no money, and I only write about what I enjoy.

Chapter 21 – Regrets

Chief's hand came up in the halting gesture again. Even though they were each equipped with a small earpiece and a small microphone, the use of silent communication techniques was still necessary at times. The tiny headset apparatus was standard issue to the team as part of their kit. It was second nature for them to wear it, not too unlike the leather jacket Lance had left back on Arus. The parts of their kit that they allowed Lance to share had included blasters, a number of battery packs to keep the weapons charged, and a decent quantity of magazines that contained the deadly laser bolts. A multi-tool and a respirator mask were standard equipment for Shadow Squad's kit in addition to a set of blades in three sizes: an average-sized one worn at the hip, a large one strapped across the back, and a small one concealed inside the boot. Hand-held explosives were carried in a small pouch that was worn in a tight sleeve up near the shoulder. However, Lance knew that each of the team was a walking arsenal with more concealed weapons than he could track. Their armory dwarfed his blaster in comparison, and he didn't even want to imagine how and where on their bodies they kept it all.

The kit wasn't the only thing that Shadow Squad used to their advantage. The cloaking device on _The Falcon's Blade_ had hidden their descent and their landing on Planet Doom. The repulsors on the engine gently brought the transport craft onto the dry surface, and Shepherd's experienced piloting skills softly brought _The Falcon's Blade_ to rest. The ship was concealed well, nestled amongst the boulders just outside the perimeter of Castle Doom.

Infiltrating the castle was a matter of smoke and mirrors. Jettie had set up an explosive out in the distance that looked like a celebratory rain of fireworks. The guards had assumed that the royal house had taken a moment to entertain the planet with the defeat of Voltron, and that moment of distraction was enough to get Shadow Squad within the perimeter of the castle. After that, they used little diversions to distract the guards from their posts momentarily. Jettie was not shy about grabbing their attention, and Pops made good on his boast about "popping" the enemy. From what Lance could recall, at least three guards were dumped quietly in the dark corners with necks broken. Five more were slashed across the neck, and two others were silenced by poisonous syringes administered by Shepherd.

Lance and Shadow Squad were now dressed in the uniforms of the higher-ranked Drule guards. The dark blue outfit was layered over their gray bodysuits, but the metal officers' helmets did little to hide their human features. However, by keeping to themselves and staying hidden within the dark alcoves of the hallways, Shadow Squad lived up to their name by silently moving throughout the bowels of the castle, becoming one with the shadows.

Obeying Chief's soundless order of the upraised hand, the members of Shadow Squad flattened themselves against the slick and cold hallway walls with their blasters suddenly trained into the dim light. They had avoided using the blasters up to this point, as they were concerned about the noises that would echo throughout the castle. Although they had silencers on their blasters, the Drule did not, and getting into a firefight in the closed quarters would undoubtedly bring in the Drule army. Shadow Squad knew that was not the kind of attention they needed at this moment.

A bread loaf-sized rodent scurried along in front of the group. Its bristly gray fur concealed the creature well in the dim light, and the dark spikes along its back were nearly invisible in the muted glow from the torches.

"Watch the barbs," Lance said quietly. He vigilantly observed the thorn rodent, keeping the blaster trained on it until it disappeared into a hole in the wall. "They inflict a poison that turns your guts to liquid."

A moment later, a fang-spider dropped from the ceiling and began to creep toward the group. In an instant, Jettie had her blaster readied on the arachnid. The spider was the size of what a normal rat should have been, its leg diameter giving it the impression of being the size of a small canine. "Chief, permission to kill?" she asked.

Upon seeing Chief's questioning look, Lance took the initiative to explain his observances of the arachnid. "If it spits at you, it will numb you with its venom and then suck your blood before you can scream."

Jettie took a deep breath, watching the fang-spider take a couple of slow, deliberate steps toward the group. "Chief?"

Suddenly, the blade of a knife landed inside the body of the fang-spider, and its legs twitched until it slowly stopped moving. Pops reached down to retrieve his knife, then looked at Jettie with fake sympathy. "Does our little Jettie have the creepies from an arachnid?"

Jettie's dark eyes gave the implication of feigned hatred. "I don't get creepies, you _nard'var_. I'm not very fond of becoming liquid fodder for a rodent or a paralyzed meal for a spider."

"What do you remember, Kid?" Chief asked to Lance, changing the subject. It was his way to get back to the task. Chief kept his eyes ahead and focused, ignoring the passing rodent and the spider. He had been in worse conditions than the Drule prison. At least six other missions from his past flashed in his memories, and each of them had worse wildlife to contend with than the last. The chunk of flesh missing from the calf of his left leg was his reminder to avoid the snap viper that inhabited the swamp jungle on the planet Breu. A fang-spider and a thorn rodent were mild annoyances in comparison, as they were much slower and easier targets to hit.

"Once we pass through that archway over there, we'll be getting into the main area of the dungeon," Lance explained, as he tried not to take offense to the way Chief addressed him as "kid," seeming to dismiss his academy experiences. "Cells will be on both the right and the left, and we won't have to worry about trying to look into isolation booths. The Drule like to see their prisoners in fear and agony so they use cages in this level. It's when you get to the arena dungeon, that's where they use the doors because they don't want the prisoners to see their opponents ahead of time."

"Do you suspect we'll have to head to the arena prison?" Shepherd asked.

"I'm hoping not," was all Lance replied as he felt his heartbeat speed up for a moment. The place on his wrist where the Drule had marked his prisoner tattoo felt like it was burning again. He took a deep breath, trying to push aside the memories of his experience in the Drule dungeons. Lance knew he was one of the few lucky ones to escape with only minor injuries, but even he couldn't control the images that would flash in his memories from time to time.

Jettie put her blaster back in its holster, replacing it with a miniature, disk-like device in her one hand, and then she pulled out her small, hand-held computer with the other. She tapped on the display screen gently, noting another symbol on their improvised digital map. She had been marking the coordinates every few feet and at certain intersections. Lance had no idea of the color scheme she entered, just that there were different color designations for different corridors and dead ends. A moment later, the disk was imbedded into a niche near a support beam in the hallway, and the computer was returned to its holder, keeping it within easy access.

"Forward, then," Chief ordered after they had all put their weapons back into the holsters. They knew that marching into the prison area with raised blasters would only invoke the attention of the guards, and that was something else they wanted to avoid.

Lance and Shadow Squad started toward the main archway that signified the entry of the dungeon. The stench of sweat, bodily odors, and fear wafted through the air. It wasn't as potent a few moments ago, but it grew in intensity with every step they took toward the heart of the dungeon.

Lance felt his skin begin to crawl as the flashbacks of his time as a Drule prisoner came to him. He remembered not being able to sleep while imprisoned in the dungeon. A fang spider had entered their cell and hissed at them for nearly four hours. Apparently, when the Drule captured the Space Explorers on their maiden mission to Arus, Zarkon saw to it to put them in the one cell that a fang-spider had claimed for its home and its nest. Then, a thorn rodent attacked the prisoner next to them, and the horrific screams of the alien's death echoed in Lance's darkest nightmares as the being's insides slowly turned to liquid.

"Come on, Lieutenant," Shepherd offered gently, putting a hand on Lance's shoulder. "You can relive your nightmares when you return to _The Valiant Guardian_. Right now, bring your head back into saving your friends."

Lance didn't remember stopping, but when he looked around him, he realized that he had paused and the group had turned to check on him. He nodded his head, "I'm…"

"_Go to hell_."

Lance suddenly was at full attention and looked ahead. He knew Princess Allura's voice anywhere, even if she was using an Earthen phrase with an expletive he had never heard her speak before. In Lance's mind, her colored vocabulary only made her situation that much more threatening. "That's the princess. She's in the prison."

Chief took a silent breath. "Masks on and blasters ready. We're putting them all to sleep. If one prisoner or guard sees us and realizes what we're doing, it will jeopardize the mission."

-- -- -- -- --

Lotor's fury radiated off him like heat from a blaze. His fists remained clenched, and his footsteps were swift with purpose. Servants and soldiers cleared the path for him as he made his way through Castle Doom. They turned hurriedly from the prince, lowering their eyes as they tried to hide in whatever corner they stood nearest. Many of them had seen what happened in the past to the hapless servants who were not fast enough to move from Lotor's path of violence. The prince was quick with his sword, and those unfortunate servants had been run through without remorse.

Lotor felt nothing but his white-hot rage as he stormed into Haggar's chambers. His eyes instantly fell upon the old hag as she sat in her hunched position on a meditation pillow on the floor. And, for once he was grateful that her damn demon cat was nowhere to be found.

Lost in the haze of hatred and unable to think, Lotor pulled the sword from his side and raised it, ready to return the demon witch to the Hell from where she spawned. While in her meditations he knew she would not see him, and he could do the deed quickly. He moved to take another step when he was suddenly pushed back by an invisible hand and held at bay.

Lotor's voice was nothing but heated anger and revulsion as he was surprised by her speed. "You lied to me, Witch!"

Haggar slowly stood from her pillow, her right arm outstretched before her, inflicting her sorcery upon Lotor. She took a couple silent steps forward, preparing her next move.

"Was the princess not on her knees? Did she not break before you?" Haggar asked confidently.

"You never told me she would be married!" Lotor screamed, trying to get his hand that was holding the sword to move again.

"Visions are but blurry images, my prince," Haggar gently explained. She continued to hold her hand outward to keep Lotor from moving toward her. "Your princess had secrets, and I had no way to know of them. My vision to you was but a final moment in a timeframe. I only learned of her marriage moments ago during my meditation."

The Drule prince squeezed his eyes closed and paused in his useless struggle. Haggar sensed that his rage and hatred had drained from him momentarily. She released her invisible hold on him, and he gently fell to his knees.

Lotor dropped the sword to the floor feeling guilt and regret. He doubled over and grabbed his head in his hands. "She means nothing to me now. For so many years, Allura was everything to me."

Haggar dared another step closer, and she lowered her voice soothingly. "Why will you not take her now?"

Lotor suddenly looked up, and the anger began to surface once again. He spoke to the witch as though she was a child and the explanation was obvious. "That _harchok_ threw aside her power and her title. She is nothing but a lowly commoner now thanks to that damn commander." His fists clenched again as the rage began to build once more. "Even if I could have gotten her before she made herself inferior, death will not sever their love. I saw it in her eyes. Now with her spirit broken, she will never forget what it was to know him. If I could have brought myself to shower her with all the compassion in the universe, it will never change what she feels for _him_."

Haggar nodded, understanding but somehow not understanding. "So what will you do with your princess?"

The fire returned to Lotor's eyes, and like a switch the white rage consumed him again. He glared at the witch, hatred for everything and everyone filling his yellow irises. "She will be the _harchok_ she is. I have given her to Graf."

Haggar's eyes never changed their appearance, but her voice grew strangely softer. "All those years of vying for her have brought you to simply throwing her away."

"I threw nothing away!" he yelled as he grabbed his sword. Lotor wanted nothing more than to destroy this witch who promised him everything he ever wanted, only to have it slip through his fingers permanently. "She betrayed _me_, and threw _me_ away!"

Silently, his arm was stilled again and he was unable to stand up from his kneeling position.

"Let me kill you, Witch!" he screamed. "I have nothing now!"

Haggar had brought her arm forward and bent Lotor unnaturally backward while he was still on his knees. "Do what you will with your princess. I did what I could within my powers to get her to you. But, if you dare to raise so much as a finger toward me, I will snap your spine in two."

Pain shot through Lotor's back as muscles and vertebrae fought against the position. Haggar held him in place for long moments, proving that if she wanted, she could paralyze him right now.

"Release me!" he finally shouted, trying to ignore the pain and break free.

"Yield, young prince," Haggar whispered with a threat so pure that for the first time, Lotor feared the witch and her powers. "You cannot defeat me, and with a snap of my fingers, you would cease to exist."

Breathing heavily and feeling the sting of tears in his eyes from the agony she was inflicting on his spinal nerves, Lotor finally dropped his sword. "I yield."

Haggar let her hand drop and watched with caution as Lotor fell forward. His breath came in heavy gasps as he was trying to push aside the pain the witch had inflicted on him. Slowly, the agony subsided, and Lotor hauled himself to his feet. He picked up his sword and sheathed it, the energy of the blade buzzing against the scabbard.

"You are your father's son," Haggar said calmly. "You have no idea the shadow you walk within. Zarkon once followed the same path. He, too, wished to conquer that which he should not have. In his fit of jealousy, he threw her away also."

Lotor looked up, and his blood boiled, as he understood exactly the woman Haggar spoke about. "No," he said sternly. "You lie."

Haggar's chuckle was soft but full of pity. "Zarkon was possessed with owning beauty, much like yourself. One day, however, his envy overwhelmed him, and he believed your mother was disloyal to him."

Lotor listened, his heart racing. He was nothing but a young boy at the time of his mother's death, and flashes of the scene sometimes haunted him in his nightmares. He could still hear her scream in the night, even after he had hidden himself in a corner of his room to hide from his father's accused yelling. In the dim light, the guards had dragged his mother out of the family chamber, and the next day, she was executed without a trial or an explanation.

Haggar was aware of Lotor's thoughts reliving the past. "It was your father's last moment of haste," she said softly. "He will never admit it but there are times he regrets that decision."

Lotor was a contradiction of being numb and weak while he was a fireball of hatred and anger. "Allura," he whispered, comprehension slowly dawning in his eyes. "I did to her what my father did to Mother."

Haggar spoke softly, weaving her words carefully. If Lotor was to become the warrior her visions showed, he would need to be seduced away from the woman he had so wished to possess. "Your mother was different. Even in a marriage without love, she maintained her compassion. Despite whatever accusations were bestowed upon her, the love she had for you never diminished. Allura, however, has chosen her fate and her allegiance. She could never find any compassion for you and never once tried to be reasonable with sharing her kindness for you. Her betrayal of you should be all the more reason that you show your father that you are a strong warrior and a strong leader. Let him see that a woman will not hold you back from your ascension to the Drule throne, and you will have more than just his respect."

Lotor knew that Allura had dismissed him and could never be convinced otherwise. If there was ever a moment to win over her compassion, it would have been when he first returned to Doom. Had he shown any spark of kindness at that time instead of consistently bringing violence to Arus, he might have earned himself her companionship. After attacking Keith, it was obvious that even without a title, Allura still cared for the people of her planet, and had even more loyalty for the friends she made in the Voltron Force. When she sacrificed the man she loved, it showed Lotor that she would never give him the chance to prove himself capable of kindness. There was no way to earn her respect previously, and he had certainly lost any chance he ever had to earn it from this point forward.

Lotor now knew what he wanted, and he was certain that he had no sliver of hope for Allura's compassion. Destruction and death would be the only things to satisfy his empty hunger.

As the prince's eyes looked to Haggar, his voice was dark hatred. "My desire for Allura has died. Arus will become a fireball of Hell, and not a single creature will escape my wrath."

-- -- -- -- --

The gray smoke cleared in moments, but the sleep-inducing chemical would stay in the air for at least another fifteen minutes. To Chief, it would be more than enough time to destroy a lock, blast any restraints, and lift a couple of prisoners out of their cell. He hoped they would find the Voltron pilots intact. Anything less and it made the mission just that much more complicated. The objective wouldn't be unattainable, not with his team. Nothing was impossible with Pops, Jettie, and Shepherd. Chief had the greatest confidence in them, and they proved themselves time and again against all kinds of odds. He knew regardless of what they encountered, the job would get done, and it would be done satisfactorily.

Lance kept his blaster ready as he walked forward, the tight feeling of the small mask pinching the skin around his cheeks. He made a mild complaint at the first sensation, but Jettie assured him that if he didn't feel the pinch, then it wasn't working correctly.

They kept a mindful watch for any guards that might have not received enough of the gas to be unconscious. However, the "sleepy air" as Pops called it, had apparently been designed so that it left no one awake, regardless of the species or race it was presented upon.

They walked by each cell, noting the different species sleeping soundly and quietly. A couple guards had fallen where they stood, and for the first time since Lance could ever remember, there was a peace to their features. It was quite uncharacteristic to see a Drule without a look of hatred or bloodlust. The oddity of seeing a Drule experiencing serenity gave Lance an unnaturally eerie sensation. He never thought that an enemy he fought against with life and limb could ever understand what it was to know tranquility. It seemed all they ever sought was war and violence.

Turning his concentration on the prisoners again, Lance put his mind back into finding Keith and Princess Allura. Looking about the dungeon, his attention was drawn to a source of unusual torchlight that was situated away from the main prisoner area.

As Shadow Squad continued to keep each other covered, they remained vigilant for any representation of the images they were given of Commander Keith and Princess Allura.

"They must have a prisoner of every life form imaginable," Shepherd said shaking his head angrily.

"Noted," Chief acknowledged, "But we're only looking for two specific ones."

"Glad I popped those few Drule that I did. It makes the galaxy just that little bit nicer," Pops grumbled.

Jettie stayed close to Lance, as she was aware of him moving separately from the group. She knew the other three would cover them, and even though Lance's order was to "stay close and keep out of the way," Chief ordered all of Shadow Squad to "watch the kid and keep him in line."

Lance ignored the conversations in his headset and continued toward the brightened cell. He was aware of Jettie tailing him, and he knew she was only following the orders she was given. Remaining steady with the blaster, Lance took a deep breath as he had finally cleared the common cell area. Then, his heart fell to the floor.

"God…damn…it," he whispered, feeling his arms fall to his sides. Keith's uniform was no longer white, and dark blood covered the front of his shirt. The sides of his clothing had turned a hideous dark pink from the blood that had seeped into the fabric from his back. Keith's body looked broken and fragile as though the slightest touch would drop him to pieces.

Moving his eyes to the princess, Lance saw that her clothing had been torn. The giant gash on the side of her shirt expelled no blood, but it exposed her undergarment and part of her skin. The Drule guard who had tried to violate her had fallen with his head resting on her legs, the small knife still in his hand.

It only took Lance the briefest of moments to start moving again as the initial shock quickly faded. Without further hesitation, the blaster was holstered, and he found himself moving faster than he ever had in his entire life. He heard Jettie over the headset, calling the others to the cell.

Kicking the cage door out of his way, Lance grabbed the guard from Allura and threw him across the room. Then, he moved to Keith and lifted his head to see if he was still alive. The face that he looked at was not recognizable. Bruises covered his cheeks, and fresh blood covered the skin around his nose and mouth.

Lance put his hand into the crook of Keith's neck finding a weakening pulse. He was then relieved to hear a slight wheezing sound. It resembled more of a rattling than a human breath, like a marble falling down a long and dented pipe.

"It's not your time yet, you moron," Lance grumbled, and grew even more concerned when he saw Keith's chest rising and falling oddly against his intake and outtake of air.

"Lance," Shepherd said gently. He had immediately assessed some of the injuries just by observing how Keith was trying to breathe. "This is where I come in."

Slowly, Lance backed away from Keith and watched Shepherd pull out a small data reader. The medic did a quick scan over Keith and then turned to Lance. "Pops and I can move him, but we have to be very careful."

Chief put himself on guard duty while he retrieved the supplies that Shepherd and Pops needed in order to stabilize the Voltron Commander. While trying to work with limited supplies, Chief improvised as best as Shepherd could allow him to do. The Shadow Squad leader brought them two of the armored vests that the common Drule guards wore. He even managed to find a long cloak made from expensive material that had once been the color of emerald and gold but was now nothing more than a grimy mat. Unconcerned with who was the previous owner, the Shadow Squad leader tore parts of the fabric into thick strips.

Shepherd and Pops carefully but quickly used the armor to wrap around Keith's body so that they could stabilize his back and legs. They wrung the cloth strips into tight twists and wrapped them around Keith's neck to keep his head from moving around, preventing any potential spinal injuries. Knowing the gas would be wearing off soon from the dungeon, Shepherd realized that Pops would have to carry the Voltron commander on his back. They just wouldn't have the time to put a makeshift gurney together.

Pops didn't argue as he knelt before Keith and moved himself into position to have the commander's body lowered onto him. Next, Shepherd blasted away the chains on Keith's wrists while Pops held him securely. Then, Shepherd took more of the robe and sliced down long pieces to use to tie Keith securely to Pops' shoulders and waist.

Jettie had pulled Lance away from Pops and Shepherd, and brought his attention to Princess Allura. She used her blaster to free the princess, and Lance gathered the young woman in his arms. Feeling momentarily defeated, Lance looked down to the princess' face and noticed the dark bruise along her cheek. Hatred and anger had begun its rise to the surface of Lance's emotions, and he had enough. He gently put Princess Allura onto the ground for a moment and then his eyes caught sight of the handkerchief.

Lance picked it up and folded it neatly. He placed it deep inside one of the pockets beneath his outfit. The small piece of cloth was the princess', and Lance was going to see that he returned it to her properly after they were back safe.

Jettie put a hand on his shoulder, trying to keep the younger man from allowing his emotions to override him and his logic. "We have to go now, Lance. There's no time for revenge."

Ignoring her, Lance walked over to the Drule that had tried to violate the princess. He kicked the guard deep in the stomach and then raised his blaster.

Chief grabbed Lance's arm and stilled him. "Not that way."

Lance turned to the Shadow Squad leader, about to release the anger of the fight he had within him when Chief handed over the knife that had been holstered on Lance's hip. "Cut the ankle and knee tendons. Then, let him live. He'd be useless and become a prisoner of the dungeon he once ruled."

-- -- -- --

With Allura in his arms, Lance followed Pops and Shepherd back through the passages that led out of the prison. Jettie had taken the lead position, making sure the path was clear, and Chief took the back, watching to make sure they had no one following them.

"I knew the Drule were heartless, but I didn't think they were disturbed," Lance mumbled as he glanced down to the princess' face and then concernedly looked at Keith's dead-looking body.

Chief put a reassuring hand onto Lance's shoulder. "You did good, Civvie," he said, putting some warmth into his new name for Lance. "You're not a cold-blooded killer. Had you shot that Drule while he was lying peacefully, it would haunt you for the rest of your life. Trust me, your friends have been avenged properly."

Lance sighed quietly, finding some new appreciation for the Shadow Squad leader. Something happened in the last few minutes, and Lance had earned considerable respect from Chief, respect Lance never thought he would have seen upon first meeting him.

"Should have let him pop some holes into the waste," Pops grumbled in a friendly tease, trying to lighten the mood. "Would have done the kid some good."

Shepherd held onto his small data reader, briefly looking down at it for a moment. "Pops, you _nard'var_, forget about blood and gore for one lousy moment and straighten your back or you're going to undo all my immobilizations on the poor commander."

"The curse of being brawny," Pops mumbled, pretending to be angry about being a makeshift gurney.

"You'd have regretted it, Lance," Jettie said softly. "And, don't listen to Pops. He just isn't right in the head."

"I heard that," Pops complained affectionately, bringing his back into a better position as Shepherd had requested.

Turning their attention again to making a safe escape, the group continued to retrace their steps. They knew that it was only a matter of time before the Drule realized that their prison had been breached. Shadow Squad moved as quickly as they could, clinging to the corners and alcoves of the hallways.

"How far out?" Chief asked as the commotion behind them started to get more intense and was growing quickly closer.

Jettie consulted her small computer screen again. "We're passing into the safe zone now. Then, we'll have to make a run toward _Blade_."

Chief turned off his momentary humanity and returned to his soldier's voice. "Give them Hell, Jettie."

Smiling with an unusual glint of wickedness, Jettie tapped a couple keys on her small computer screen. The hallways behind them seemed to implode on themselves as smoke and debris suddenly rained down, making the hallways impassable.

Now Lance understood what the small, rounded devices Jettie carried were and what the purple squares in her color code meant. She had been setting charges in the main intersections and programming them with her little computer. He looked toward the outcropping of rocks where _The Falcon's Blade_ rested, and he understood Chief's confidence in his team. Not only were they specially trained for this kind of mission, but they had their own extraordinary bond. Lance found himself hoping even harder now that Keith would survive. He didn't want to see the Voltron Force severed, and he feared losing Keith would destroy the team.

-- -- -- -- --

_Author's Additional Notes_: Special thanks to my husband, who has been an EMT for over 12 years. I gave him a verbal run-down of the dungeon and the injuries Keith had undergone. Because of my husband's training, he became my technical advisor on the medical techniques to use in a crisis situation, such as the one in this chapter.


	22. Chapter 22

_Author's Notes_: Thank you once again to everyone! I know that my updates take a long time, but I always try to do what I can when I can. I actually decided to take a couple weeks off from writing, as this chapter did not want to be written. Instead of pushing the story, I enjoyed the last of my summer. The words then began to come to me once again, and without further delay, I present Chapter 22.

Special thanks once again to MustangAce for taking a few moments to do a preliminary read and offer his suggestions!

As always…

I hope I continue to do justice to the characters and the series of _Voltron_, and I ask for no flames, please. However, I will accept constructive criticism in order to develop further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I own nothing of WEP or Voltron. However, I will take responsibility for Shadow Squad as well as any chaos and destruction they may cause. The citizens of Fedmar and their respective leader are also mine. In short, I make no money, and I only write about what I enjoy.

Chapter 22 – Broken Spirits

Hunk looked down at his half-eaten meal and thought back through the last couple of hours, starting with how he and Pidge had taken time earlier to accommodate themselves into their quarters. The rooms they were given were tight, as was expected on a military vessel; however, the housing quadrants were large enough to accommodate a bed, a small closet for essential clothing, a small pull-down desk, and a personal restroom facility, which included a shower. Upon the desk in their rooms, Hunk and Pidge each found they had been provided a small data screen with a keyboard. The data viewer offered a series of televised programs, as well as access to a universal feed of data and information throughout the galaxy.

Uninterested in the entertainment of the viewscreen that was in his room, Hunk had opted to take a nap. Despite the comfort the mattress offered, sleep was elusive. After about an hour of trying to ease his restlessness, Hunk decided instead to check on Pidge to see if he was faring any better. To his dismal relief, he saw that Pidge could neither concentrate on the viewscreen nor take a rest of his own. Conceding to their defeat, Hunk and Pidge found themselves gravitating toward the Grand Meal Hall.

After they had picked up their food trays, they chose seats that were out of the center and closer to one of the room's corners. Throughout their meal, the two Voltron pilots had remained quiet while they ate, choosing to spend the time in quiet reflection. Without saying so, both Hunk and Pidge knew that they were wallowing in what they felt was a sense of uselessness. The two of them had wanted to go on the mission to Doom to rescue Keith and the princess, but with the way that Lance had to manipulate Chief to bring him along, it was not worth the effort to fight for their inclusion as well. Still, there was no denying that Hunk and Pidge had wanted to find some way to help Lance. However, trying to raise communications to him or Shadow Squad would put the entire mission at risk, and it left Hunk and Pidge with no choice but to wait for Lance to call them. Every minute that passed seemed slow and deliberate, like a cruel repentance for sins that neither knew they had committed.

The silent waiting had also added to the sense of fear that both Hunk and Pidge shared in regards to their friends' safety. They were concerned now to go too far astray in their curious wants to explore _The __Valiant Guardian_, and they knew that the longer time took for any kind of communication from Lance, the more likely something bad had happened.

Hunk broke away from his weighty thoughts and took a swig of the lightly bubbled spiced drink before him. It tasted like vanilla with cinnamon, and it went well with the protein substance on his plate that very much looked like a slice of holiday turkey. The protein was made to resemble the texture of cooked meat, and it was not only nutritionally balanced, but it had been prepared with a seasoning that was sweet but delicately spiced. The vegetables were crunchy, red strips served on a bed of orange, coin-shaped fruit. The vegetables and fruit filled the palate with a sweet flavor that would usually make Hunk want to keep eating long after he had passed his fill. Instead of eating, however, Hunk sighed quietly and moved the fork around the small pile of fluffy, potato-like carbohydrates. He suddenly realized that a half-finished meal wasn't something he had done since he was at the academy.

Momentarily, he mulled over the incident of his youth. At that time, he was still just a cadet and had begun the final term of his enlistment at the academy. Hunk thought back to that day when a fire drill had pulled him away from his meal in the mess hall. Because he was raised in a large family where every morsel counted and was never wasted, Hunk instinctively grabbed his tray of food to take it with him to the designated safe area. However, one of the instructors saw what he was doing and snatched the tray from him, thinking that Hunk was nothing more than a typical cadet smart ass. Sergeant Noss, who Hunk referred to as "Sergeant Boss," was one of those few perfectly chiseled humans who had come from a very wealthy family where everything was given to him at his whim. When Hunk tried to explain that his actions were due to the ingrained penny pinching of a large family with a small budget, Sergeant Boss had then insisted that Hunk try to shed the extra pounds so that he could save his family a meal or two. Additionally, Sergeant Boss pushed the issue, giving Hunk an incentive that if he didn't make the weight restrictions before graduation he would withhold Hunk from graduating until the following season.

Looking up from the meal and stepping out of his memories, Hunk glanced around the near-empty cafeteria watching the scenes of his past evaporate around him. For as much as Hunk hated Sergeant Boss then, he was more than grateful for the man's strict insistence. Without Sergeant Boss and his demands, Hunk would never have graduated when he was supposed to and would not be one of the lucky ones chosen for the Arus mission. And, more importantly, he would not have made the friends he did, the friends whose very lives could be in trouble without him to assist.

Taking a moment to study the large dining hall, Hunk once again shook away his dark worries about his friends and observed that the cafeteria could easily accommodate nearly three hundred people comfortably. Lazily looking about the room, his eyes caught onto one of the four giant video screens that hung high on the four walls. Each of the video screens showed a broadcast of current events, and scrolling at the bottom of each of them was an update on schedules for training and patrol missions.

On the far wall, across the entire side of the cafeteria was a wide, false window that projected the galaxy from different angles. It displayed realistic snapshots of solar systems, planets, comets, and other natural phenomena throughout the galaxy. Interspersed between the galactic images were the various ships in the Finlon fleet performing rehearsed maneuvers.

After a few moments, the image of the Denubian Galaxy shifted through, and the holographic image of Arus passed by. To Hunk, it resembled Earth from the distance, and without a doubt he felt homesickness. Arus had become his second home, and he hoped very much that he would be able to return there soon with all his friends safe and sound.

"I hate not knowing," Pidge mumbled, breaking Hunk from his assortment of passing thoughts.

Hunk looked over to the pilot of the Green Lion and noticed that he, too, had picked equally at his meal. Earlier, the teenager's brown eyes had been watching a news feed on one of the video screens about the booming dweller's market on Finlon, but now he looked downtrodden and lost. The family he had also adopted in the last year had become broken in a matter of hours.

"Me, too," Hunk conceded, putting down his fork. "I know that Shadow Squad is trained for this kind of stuff, but it's driving me crazy that I can't just contact Lance for an update."

Pidge closed his eyes and took a quiet breath. "What if something really bad happened? It's been a couple hours now, and we're not supposed to be separated like this. We're the Voltron Force. The five of us are perfect together."

Hunk looked down to his plate. "I know. I've been trying not to think about it. But, if Voltron is dead and we're broken too, then what happens?"

Pidge put his chin in his hand and leaned his elbow on the table. "Maybe we should not have let Lance go. Maybe we should have let Dirin run the show so that we could stay on Arus fixing the Lions."

Hunk snorted quietly. "What are you nuts? Lance would have been crawling the walls like a lunatic."

After a couple seconds Pidge offered a tiny smile, trying to lighten his spirits. "Yeah, it would be great seeing him so distracted. Maybe I'd actually win a game of poker against him for once."

Hunk finally smiled again. "How about when we get back to Arus and things are right again, you and me come up with some kind of plan for that?"

Before Pidge could reply, a uniformed soldier marched up to the table where the two Voltron pilots were seated. He wore the light blue uniform that Prince Dirin's aides were assigned. The small, silver orb that was pinned to his collar noted that this particular aide was ranked up higher than the previous aides they had met earlier.

The man had thick and wavy brown hair, and his brown eyes momentarily reminded Hunk and Pidge of a younger version of Keith. The way the aide stood stiffly, with an ingrained sense of formal military training, made him appear even more like the Voltron commander.

The aide's voice was quiet, soft-spoken. "I'm sorry to interrupt your repast."

"That's okay," Pidge smiled, still working off the jovial ideas he and Hunk had been discussing and hoping that the aide's presence would lead to some good news. "We were just about done."

The aide nodded his head stiffly and then proceeded to deliver his message. "Prince Dirin has requested your presence in his command office. He asked me to escort you."

Without any further hesitation, Hunk and Pidge quickly stood from their seats and motioned for the aide to lead the way. They felt grateful to finally get some kind of update, and they hoped that whatever Prince Dirin had to say included a small reunion party. They wanted nothing more than to be the Voltron Force once again.

-- -- -- -- --

"What do you mean we're not heading back to _The Valiant Guardian_?" Lance asked, his voice full of irritation. Postponing aid to Keith was the final straw on Lance's strained back, and it managed bring to the surface his underlying frustration and impatience. He hadn't yet gotten over his anger at the Drule guard, and all he wanted was the Voltron Force back together and whole again.

Chief had taken the task of piloting _The Falcon's Blade_ without questioning or prompting. Minutes ago they had cleared through the atmosphere from Planet Doom under the guise of _The Falcon Blade's_ cloaking device. They had yet to see a Drule reconnaissance ship or a warship, and Chief made sure to compliment Jettie on her clean implosion of the hallways within the Drule dungeon. Chief was confident that the Drule were too busy trying to figure out what happened in their castle to worry about an invisible spot on their radar screens. Still, the Shadow Squad leader took no chances and utilized every precaution available as he maneuvered _The Falcon's Blade_ with urgent speed. He kept her steady but pushed the ship safely to its velocity's limits.

Chief's unspoken plan to man the ship's controls was another way that Shadow Squad had demonstrated their instinctive communication, and it made Lance long even more for the comfort of the Voltron Force. They were his friends and his extended family, and as such, they had their share of disagreements and instinctual communication. They even shared enough blood together that it was probably all mixed amongst them now. However, this time there was something very different about the way Keith had been hurt. His injuries weren't the result of hand-to-hand combat or being banged around his Lion's cockpit. There was something very personal and impassioned about the way that his friend had been beaten, and something wasn't sitting right with Lance about why a lowly Drule guard was about to violate the princess.

Lance's rush of adrenaline to get Keith and Princess Allura safe at that time had overridden his logic about Lotor's whereabouts. The Red Lion's pilot didn't understand why Lotor wasn't the one trying to harm Princess Allura, and something about it gave him a very bad feeling. Looking from the princess and back to Keith, Lance returned himself to the present and knew he would have to wait until one of them was conscious again before he could receive any answers to his questions.

Princess Allura, however, would not be waking immediately as Shepherd had given her a very mild sleeping injection when they first got onto the ship to prevent her from waking while he tended to Keith. They had laid her onto one of the reclining seats, making her as comfortable as possible. Shepherd had explained earlier that he needed to minimize the risk for a post-traumatic outburst from the princess, and she was the easier of the two cases right now to control.

Lance didn't like the idea, but he understood that if Princess Allura woke up in confusion and had any residual emotional outbursts from her imprisonment, it could endanger them while trying to fly through space. That kind of situation would then force Shepherd to stop doing everything in his power to keep Keith alive.

Shepherd didn't look up from his work as he set a small mask over Keith's face to provide an oxygen-enriched airflow that would give Keith enough air to prevent brain damage. The medic then steadied a vein in Keith's arm and started an intravenous antibiotic. Considering how dirty and unsanitary the dungeon was, he felt there was no sense in taking unnecessary chances with any potential infections. Next, he injected into the intravenous line a mild narcotic to dull Keith's pain. Even though the commander was unconscious, Shepherd had to make sure that Keith didn't awaken in a fit of agony and undo the healing that he tried to start.

The medic answered Lance's question calmly while he worked, reaching into a cabinet above his head for another package of antiseptic cloths. "Keith needs a specialized trauma healer. He needs more care than just being cut open and stitched back together…"

"But, I thought Prince Dirin had the best in his military," Lance interrupted with increasing frustration. He grew more concerned the more he watched Shepherd keeping his eyes on his patient. "Why wouldn't he have someone like that on his flagship?"

"Look, Civvie," Chief replied, purposefully using Lance's new nickname to regain some kind of connection with him again. "There's a difference between military surgery and civilian surgery. Yes, the prince's medical staff could do just fine with Keith. But, military surgery is fast, quick, and done to get on to the next patient. Civilian surgery is cautious, thorough, and won't rule out the stuff that seems insignificant."

Jettie sat by Lance and put a reassuring hand on his arm. "Sweetie, I know it's not easy to understand, but we're not going that far out of the way."

"Shepherd knows his way around the medical community," Pops agreed. "And, the man won't send a patient of his to just anyone. If a patient is in his care, he's going to get the best. I know some medics don't care, but Shepherd's not like them."

Lance watched Shepherd take another dampened cloth to clean away more of Keith's spilled blood. The medic had cut away portions of the uniform and left the scraps on the floor in his hurry to get Keith stabilized onto the fold-down cot. Three drawers were opened and it seemed that every time Lance blinked, a new device was being pulled out.

"I won't promise you he'll be all right," Jettie said quietly. "But, I will promise you that Shepherd's about as stubborn as a Pelt Leech on a JurtiBeast, and he's not going to give up on Keith."

"_Mercy's Heart_, Chief," Shepherd said quietly.

"Already en route and already advised the _Guardian_," the Shadow Squad leader replied. "Can you keep him stable for about twenty minutes?"

Shepherd's green eyes looked to Lance but addressed Chief. "Pelt Leech on a JurtiBeast."

Lance saw a determination in the medic's eyes that he only thought Keith exhibited, and without a doubt Lance knew that Shepherd would be damned to lose Keith now.

-- -- -- -- --

Coran clasped his hands behind his back and wearily stepped through the giant repair station. The high ceilings echoed the sound of the welding machines and the clatter of the tools that were being used on the metal frames of the Lions. Voices would occasionally shout for assistance from the three mechanics that were running throughout the massive chamber. At one point, Coran heard the clatter of a tool that fell onto the metal floor, followed by an eerie silence. Everyone seemed to stop what they were doing, fearing something had gone terribly wrong with one of the Lions. When they realized it was nothing more than a simple loss of a grasp on the tool, relief visibly flowed throughout the chamber.

The advisor's shoulders were sore with the weight of regret and failure as he moved about the room. His brown eyes scanned over the Lions, and he felt despair and vulnerability.

Each of the Lions had been given a berth to rest upon until the mechanics could get to work on mending the physical damage. They had started with the Black Lion, working on its belly as it lay on its back. There was a multitude of gashes and tears in the ancient metal that needed mending. No one had realized just how much damage the Lions took from a distance, but when observing them up close, every mark became blatantly obvious. And for a long moment, Coran wished that Hunk and Pidge had stayed on Arus to work on the Lions. Their connection to the mechanical beasts was instinctual, and they left no blemish uncorrected. Coran had observed them once take a buffer to one of the scratches in Red Lion insisting that they would get it smooth again. After a long half hour, Red Lion shone with an incredible polish, and the scratch was nothing more than a memory. Lance had never been more proud of his mechanical beast, and he boasted about the shiny, new coat of red paint for weeks.

Realizing he was allowing a small smile, Coran closed his eyes remembering the banter that took place afterwards. Yes, he knew the Voltron Force was composed of good men. They played and lived and laughed with a passion that was thought to be long dead on Arus.

Opening his eyes and trying not to think about death in respect to Arus or anyone else, Coran could not control the fear he suddenly felt for Keith and Allura. He was concerned that Lotor would learn about their devotion and bring them merciless harm. Trying to push the worries away, the advisor brought his attention back to the Lions, studying them.

The mechanics had laid the Lions onto their berths, depending on what repairs were required. Black Lion was still on its back, and one of the mechanics had pulled out a metal burr from the debris of the battle that took place earlier. Green Lion and Yellow Lion had been placed on their sides as they only suffered minor dents. Red Lion and Blue Lion were lying on their stomachs. They had taken a pretty strong beating as Lance fought with the Blazing Sword, and Allura was still the weakest among the five of them. Coran felt another wave of guilt as he realized that at Nanny's and his own insistence, Allura's tactical lessons had always been interrupted with political lessons that they felt were more suitable for a princess.

Sighing quietly, Coran pushed aside the thought and concentrated again on his concerns over the Lions. The glow in the eyes of the Lions had been dimmed in the battle, and it was a sign that the life energy of Voltron was gone from the beasts. It was the worst damage Coran had ever seen them undertake. No matter how ripped and torn the metal flesh of the Lions had been in past battles, the glow in the eyes always remained. Even when Haggar had managed to separate Voltron years ago and had broken the giant robot into five separate Lions, the familiar radiance remained in their eyes.

Walking by the Blue Lion, Coran reached a tired hand out to touch the azure coloring of the Lion's cheek. The metal seemed cold and foreign, and it was exactly how he believed a metal corpse would feel. Sighing quietly once again, Coran realized just how inconsequential and tiny in comparison his hand was to the giant beast's head. And, it fed his guilt, making him aware just how insignificant he was to save his princess, the young woman he had sworn to protect. Feeling his shoulders slump, Coran knew he had broken his promise to Alfor, despite how the former king was the one who instructed Coran to allow Allura to be taken captive.

_I ache for her loss, too._

Coran looked about him to see if any of the mechanics were giving him any of their attention. When he saw they were still scattered and busily distracted with using the machinery to repair the physical damage on the Lions, the advisor nodded his head, answering the voice of King Alfor.

"The castle seems so lonely and desolate without any of them."

_Their presence __has certainly breathed new life into Arus_, Alfor replied.

"I am concerned that we have not received word yet of the mission to rescue your daughter and Keith," Coran said sadly. "It has been hours. I though we would have heard something by now."

Alfor seemed to pause for a long moment before replying. _Lotor may have them hidden away, and it might just be taking time to locate their whereabouts. I find it difficult myself, but patience is all we have, my friend._

"Perhaps you are right, your majesty. The possibilities of a reason for the delay are endless, and I am needlessly making myself insane with every scenario my imagination conjures."

_Then, you must make yourself productive, Coran_, Alfor offered. _There are children and families under Nanny's care who still need your guidance and reassurance that their lives are safe in the castle. You should be with them offering comfort and helping make arrangements for their shelter._

Coran raised his eyes and nodded quietly. "You are correct, your highness. Forgive me for my hasty, melancholy moment."

_As always, you are forgiven, my friend. I will stay and watch over the Lions._

"Master Coran?" one of the younger guards asked as he approached the Blue Lion and the elder statesman. He was one of guards who had recently graduated from the informally run school that Galaxy Garrison established in the Castle of Lions. The guardsmen who attended the classes were instructed in lessons in self-defense and battle tactics. Eventually, Galaxy Garrison promised to send more instructors and better equipment. Until then, though, such young men and women were being taught as best they could, and it was their determination that gave them the edge to make the cut.

Coran realized that he had allowed his thoughts to take over him once again, and he forced himself to concentrate on the young man before him. The guard's brown eyes were nervous from his lack of experience in the position, but the determination to do a good job over-rode that fear. Coran believed that, in time, this guard had the potential to become quite a soldier and would do the defense of Arus proud.

"Sir," the young man continued, "Nanny asked me to find you. She said the citizens in the castle are growing restless and that you would know how to calm them."

"I am on my way," Coran replied. He touched the Blue Lion one last time, and his eyes glanced over the rest of the Lions. The underlying fear did not go away, but with the duties he now had to undertake, he was able to push it aside. He would worry about the concern of the Voltron Force and Voltron's spirit later. For now, he a greater priority, and he would rather put his efforts into something he could control as opposed to the worries of his imagination.

-- -- -- -- --

_Author's Additional Notes_: Once again I consulted my husband's EMT experiences for Shepherd's treatment techniques. Although my husband does not have the kind of advanced training that I have provided for Shepherd, my husband has seen more than his share of trauma treatment and was able to offer me his advice from his observations in the field.


	23. Chapter 23

_Author's Notes_: I've finished the Republic Commando series, and until I find the next Star Wars novel that will grasp me, I have no plans to leave the Denubian Galaxy any time soon. Karen Traviss delivered a tragic ending with twists that I am still in denial about reading, and the finality of her tale has left me rather somber for the characters I loved over the course of her four novels.

On a different note, thank you once again to everyone! I just recently learned that this story has received a Voltron Fandom Nomination for "Best Dramatic Tale," and I am so very thrilled to know that my work means that much to you all. This nomination has been such encouragement, and I wish there was some way to thank Everyone properly for the continued interest!!

As always…

I hope I continue to do justice to the characters and the series of _Voltron_, and I ask for no flames, please. However, I will accept constructive criticism in order to develop further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I own nothing of WEP or Voltron. However, I will take responsibility for Shadow Squad as well as any chaos and destruction they may cause. The citizens of Fedmar and their respective leader are also mine. In short, I make no money, and I only write about what I enjoy.

Chapter 23 – Fragility

Lance felt the blackness around him slowly dissolve as light began to shine through his closed eyelids. Blinking them open, he fought against the brightness for a few moments. The blackness of sleep seemed more comforting, but the tiredness was dissipating, and he wanted to be conscious once again. Moving slowly, one of his hands found its way to his eyes, and he rubbed the residual tired feeling away. His eyes opened again and he concentrated on the recessed lighting above him. It was nothing more than a round orb imbedded in the ceiling, but it was brighter than what he wanted the light to be at the current moment. Shifting his eyes away from the light, he saw the plain walls with a pastel border across the top. The design on the border resembled peach-colored seashells and mint-green starfish. A stripe of light blue above and below the marine shapes enclosed them neatly.

Voices held a conversation within the room, gentle whispers like those of two people who knew each other intimately.

The woman's voice spoke, and it sounded familiar, but for a moment Lance couldn't think of who he knew with a slight Southern drawl. "_Keith was protecting the princess…_"

"_I know_," the male voice interrupted. There was the sound of anger and sympathy in his words. "_He was entirely helpless to protect her, despite the blood he shed and the agony he felt. The sense of failure that he must have been feeling_…" Then, the voice trailed off as though not sure how to express his emotions any more.

Lance finally recognized the voices, and as he began to awaken more, he realized that he was listening to Jettie and Shepherd.

"_What's wrong?_" Jettie asked.

"_In __a heartbeat, I would do the same thing for you_," Shepherd whispered. "_And for as much as that scares me, the thought of you being safe is more important than my own sanity or my own agony_."

Turning his head, Lance looked over to the two Shadow Squad members as they sat on the couch that was set up on the opposite side of the room from him. Jettie was snuggled against Shepherd's shoulder, her arm wrapped comfortably around his waist. The medic's arm encircled her back, his fingers fidgeting with a lock of her dark hair.

Feeling the familiar warmth of his leather jacket, Lance remembered that before they had landed on the civilian medical frigate, _Mercy's Heart_, he and Shadow Squad had changed out of their dark gray uniforms and into civilian clothing. Chief explained that changing outfits was standard procedure before returning to the civilian ranks and it was best that they didn't advertise their special operations status to the general public. Carefully packing away their uniforms and kits, Shadow Squad concealed them on _The Falcon's Blade_.

Lance remembered that Jettie had taken a moment to remove the braid from her hair. The dark locks rested softly over her shoulders, and the tightness of the braid had produced thick waves after it was loosened. It made her look very different, especially since she had opted for a more casual outfit that included a pair of brown, knee-high boots, a pair of plain tan pants, and a pale yellow shirt with embroidered flowers that allowed her to be more feminine than military.

Shepherd had changed into a simple green shirt and a pair of basic duty pants that had pockets all along the sides of the legs. He had proceeded to stash his hand-held tools and medical equipment into the pockets. He then prepared a small first aid bag to carry over his shoulder, knowing that he wasn't entirely off-duty until he was confident that Keith was in the care of the trauma specialist. Even in the civilian clothes, Shepherd was the ever-vigilant caretaker of the universe and of everyone within it.

Chief and Pops seemed out of place in casual attire as they still held themselves with military poise. Jettie teased that the civilians were going to see right through them. Chief acknowledged the observation and used that to their cover. He explained that they were simply two militants on leave visiting family, and if they really wanted to confuse the general public, they would suddenly become the uncles of a new arrival in the maternity ward.

Before they had left _The Falcon's Blade_, Jettie and Shepherd had told Lance that they would stay with him until his friends would arrive. Having the thoughts and memories finally fall back into place again, Lance began to sit up. He saw that Jettie had closed her eyes against the soft material of the unadorned shirt Shepherd was wearing, and she seemed content in the moment as his fingers continue to twirl a lock of her hair. Then, she pulled back from Shepherd and pushed a finger into his chest, her voice full of feigned anger as she decided to lighten his mood.

"Look, Medic, don't you go and get all glum and emotional on me. I'd demolish an entire city if I had to for you, and I wouldn't think twice while doing so."

Watching Jettie go into a protective rampage warmed Shepherd's spirits, and a tiny smile crept across his face at the thought. Somehow, Lance could envision the same scene that Shepherd saw: Jettie planting a multitude of devices at the foundation of every building and smiling triumphantly as she hit the button on her little datapad.

"What's so funny?" she suddenly asked Shepherd.

"A demolitions expert and a medic with piloting credentials." His smile was full, and the twinkle returned to his green eyes. "What you destroy I try to fix or at least get the hell out of its way. I never thought of it like that until now."

"Sentimental _nard'var_," Jettie muttered. "Whatever did I see in you?"

Lance finally felt awake, and his mind had cleared enough that he wanted answers. "Okay, Shepherd, what did you do, drug me or make me drunk?"

Jettie stayed closed to Shepherd as they both turned to Lance. The medic answered first. "I did neither, Lieutenant."

Lance rubbed his face feeling a layer of stubble on his cheeks and chin. He couldn't remember the last time he shaved. Having a moment for a superficial thought, he wondered at what point he would give up the vigil on his friends and actually allow himself the vanity of a shower. "Look, you two, the last thing I knew Jettie offered me a glass of water. Then I find myself waking up on this awfully uncomfortable couch."

Shepherd pointed to Jettie. "You can thank my better half for that."

The demolitions expert smiled innocently and sat up straighter on the couch. "I'm sorry, sweetie, but you needed some rest, and you weren't planning to give in to it on your own."

"So, you just drugged…" Lance stopped mid-thought as another thought struck him, one he found even stranger. "Wait a minute? Better half?"

"Did you think she was with Pops?" Shepherd responded with a smile.

Lance looked between the two of them. "I didn't see this one coming. You showed no signs of a relationship when we were on the mission."

"We can't. Our actions might endanger the unit, and protocol dictates the utmost professionalism." Jettie then smiled strangely. "Of course, who is to know when we're the characters of our cover stories and when we're ourselves?"

"But, you wanted to know why you were forced to take a nap," Shepherd answered as he leaned forward, changing the subject. "Sneaking the tranq was Jettie's idea. I know exhaustion when I see it, and if she didn't spike your water when she did, there was no telling what kind of physical repercussions you might experience. The last thing you need is to find out what kind of endangerment your exhaustion would lead to. Besides, you got a good four hours rest in you now. That'll hold you for a while."

Lance sat back against the couch. "I should hate you both, but I'm strangely grateful." Shifting his eyes between them again, he asked, "How's Keith?"

"He's been in surgery now for just over four hours," Shepherd explained, "With everyone accounted for, Hunk and Pidge decided to get some rest of their own while you were sleeping. We told them we'd get them when you wake up."

Jettie looked to Shepherd and then to Lance. "We can't stay much longer. We're deploying in ten hours, after our own adequate rest. Pops and Chief handled the debriefing, and they were already given new mission papers."

"So, this is it, then?" Lance asked, feeling a sense of abrupt finality to his time with Shadow Squad.

"This is longer than we usually stick around," Jettie replied. "We retrieved your friends, and as far as our objectives are concerned, the mission was completed successfully."

Lance nodded absently for a moment. "I don't know how to thank you."

Shepherd stood and gathered his medical bag. As he threw it over his shoulder, he looked to Lance and placed a warm cup of sweetened caffe in his hand. "Pops said to get back into your mecha-ship and blast the hell out of the Drule. Chief said if you ever want to do special operations, he'd give you a recommendation and set you up with the right training unit."

Lance accepted the cup with a smile, allowing a small chuckle as he stood. "Don't think I'm really special ops material, but tell Chief I'm grateful. I agree more with Pops right now. I'd love to blast some Drule."

Jettie smiled as she got up from the couch. "Look, sweetie, don't make it a long goodbye. Your mission now is to be there for them all."

"I promise you that Keith is in the best care," Shepherd said. "Don't forget to take care of yourself, though. Your friends are going to need you for a while until they're back to normal. In the meantime, all of you need to stay out of Drule prisons. I can't promise you that we'd be available next time."

Lance laughed quickly and nodded. Without further words, he and Shepherd shook hands. Then, Jettie kissed him gently on the cheek. In a blink, they were gone, the door closing softly behind them. Just as quickly as Lance had met them, Shadow Squad returned to the shadows of their obscurity. Shepherd blended perfectly on a medical frigate as no one would think twice about him while he carried his medical bag and looked like a first responder in between crises. Jettie now looked as common as any other woman throughout the galaxy.

Overwhelmed by the sudden the silence, Lance sat back down onto the couch and enjoyed the drink in the cup, savoring the soothing warmth of it. For a moment, he realized just how alone he now felt. It seemed it was weeks since he last saw Hunk and Pidge, and it seemed like months since he was with Keith and Princess Allura. Leaning his head back against the wall, he hoped soon it would get back to normal. He wanted to be back on Arus flying his Red Lion and flirting with the Arusian women. He wanted to tease Keith about his attraction to the princess, and he wanted another round of poker with Hunk and Pidge. Hell, he would even be happy with a berating from Nanny right now or Coran indulging in one of his long, boring politically-correct admonitions.

Smirking to himself about how best to pester Nanny, Lance was pulled from the thought when he saw movement beyond the glass doors of the hallway to the surgical wing. He placed the cup on a small table, preparing to greet the newcomer.

A young woman stepped through the doors. Lance estimated that she wasn't too much older than he was. Her hair was hidden beneath a tight surgical cap, and she had been careful to not let even a wisp of hair fall loose. Her medical steriles, the clothes that the doctors and nursing aides wore, was a light blue shade. The outfit offered room for slack and concealed any defining shape that the young woman had, but her petite frame was enough for Lance to see that she took proper care of herself.

Her hazel eyes looked to the Voltron pilot, and a small frown seemed to appear for a moment. "The other couple left already?" she asked.

"They had to change priorities," Lance said, intending to offer no information about them. He quickly changed the topic, as he knew that he had to keep anything he knew of Shadow Squad entirely confidential. "Are you the nurse's aide?"

The young woman seemed to take sudden offense. "My doctorate of surgical physiology and anatomy say otherwise."

Lance raised his hands in apology. "Hey, sorry. I'm just looking for anyone who can give me an update on my friend. Keith from the Voltron Force had gone in about four hours ago."

"Ah," the woman said nodding. She held her hand out. "I'm Doctor Katrine."

Lance took her hand and shook it. "I'm Lance. Were you assisting?"

The doctor quickly pulled her hand back, breaking the connection. She took her arms and crossed them over her chest. "I was lead surgeon on your friend's case. Now, do you want to keep putting your foot in your mouth or do you want an update?"

Lance was suddenly taken aback by this doctor's abrupt attitude. She had quickly put him on the defensive as his hands clenched into fists, and he found himself biting down on his new round of irritation and frustration. Taking a deep breath, he tried once more to be apologetic. "No offense, but I was expecting someone…"

"Older, yes, I know," she said quickly, as though she had answered his questions and addressed his concerns numerous times before. "I discovered my purpose early in life and worked hard to get where I am. Not that it makes a difference to you, but Fedmar medical schools do not waste students' time with useless classes and thesis assignments. We start hands-on training by sixteen years of age, and most doctors graduate by the time they're twenty."

Lance rubbed his forehead with the palms of his hands. Damn, he hated doctors. Sighing heavily, he forced himself to keep calm and just stick to asking about Keith. He didn't need to know anything about the doctor as long as she took care of the Voltron commander. And, since she had come so highly recommended by Shepherd, then he shouldn't care if she was a chimp with a missing hand. "Look, just tell me everything and don't lie to me."

Doctor Katrine saw the frustration in the Voltron pilot's eyes, and she decided to make it easy on them both and explain the facts.

"Currently, we've immersed your friend in a plasmi-bath to help accelerate the healing processes, both internal and external. He should be released from there in about an hour. The scans we took of his heart, brain, and spine showed normal readings. As for the injuries themselves, it's not good. The blood loss alone put him into a high risk, and we've had to replenish a lot of it. There were multiple deep lacerations along his back that had to be carefully sealed with plasmi-patches. There isn't much that can be done with the bruises except let them heal on their own. His ribs had been broken, and we've managed to set them back into place. The calci wrap we've placed around them will help the bone set quicker. His left lung had been collapsed due to a piece of bone fragment that came from one of his ribs. It took us longer than we expected to remove the piece of bone, but the lung will heal, and that can take a couple weeks."

Doctor Katrine took a breath before continuing. "The muscles and tendons were torn in his shoulders, but we won't know yet how much of his motor functions will return. There were fractures in his cheekbones, and his nose had been broken. That, too should heal itself in due time."

Lance felt his jaw set tightly. It seemed the more she explained, the worse it got, and he hoped that sooner rather than later the list of damage would end.

"Further internal injuries included a lacerated liver and gall bladder. Both have been repaired now, and the plasmi-injections will allow them to heal quicker." She paused shaking her head. "It's amazing that he survived. He wouldn't have lasted much longer had you not gotten to him when you did."

Lance felt his hands clench into fists once again. He had spent enough time around doctors earlier in his life that he could tell when they were omitting a fact or two. "You're not telling me something."

Doctor Katrine stood without emotion, her face impassive. To Lance, she looked just how he pictured a medical textbook in human form. "After the surgery, we tried to wake him, but he has shown no sign of awareness. Your friend has fallen into a coma, but it could be temporary, just his body and mind's natural way of resetting. Unfortunately, we have no way to know right now."

Despite his couple hours of rest, Lance felt exhausted. He sagged onto the couch, and his head fell into his hands. If Keith was out of commission, Lance was now officially the leader of the Voltron Force. The Red Lion's pilot prayed it would only be temporary. He didn't want the position under these circumstances. Looking up he asked, "When can I see him?"

"We'll contact you after he is released from the plasmi-bath."

"How is the princess?" Lance asked, trying to piece together exactly what happened in that dungeon and trying to work through the shocking news about Keith.

Doctor Katrine pulled a small datapad from her side pocket and tapped on the tiny screen. "She's stable. Other than muscle fatigue and a facial bruise, she's physically fine. Emotionally…" Doctor Katrine paused to take a breath, reading the screen carefully, as though more afraid of reading it wrong than how it would affect Lance. "They gave her a mild sedative to ease her with the post-traumatic distress…"

Now, Doctor Katrine's calm, clinical exterior had chafed Lance under the emotional wounds he had experienced, and he didn't want to try keeping his anger under control any longer. "Who gave you the right to drug the Princess?"

Lance had really hated doctors. As far as he was concerned, none of them ever showed any compassion or emotion, and this one was so surgically calm, he wanted to shake her to see if even a pea-sized heart would rattle in her chest cavity.

"I'm not a cerebral counselor," Dr. Katrine offered evenly. "I treat physical wounds, not emotional ones. You need to see the psychological staff for your questions."

"It must be easy to have no care when your patients aren't your friends," he shot back.

Dr. Katrine seemed to sag for a moment by his retort. Then, she straightened and proceeded to talk to him in her medical calmness. "I'm sorry. I'll see to it that either my staff or I will advise you when you can see your friend."

"Keith, damn it!" Lance shouted. "His name is Keith. He's not some slab of meat that gets thrown onto your table that you can hack open, play around with his insides for a while, and then stitch back together as though there was nothing wrong. Keith is a damn fine man. He's the leader of the Voltron Force, and he's the closest thing to a brother I'll ever know."

Doctor Katrine took a quiet breath and nodded her head with practiced patience. He wasn't the first person who spoke through his emotions, and she knew he wouldn't be the last. She decided it would be best to appease this frustrated pilot and then she would return to her patients. "All right, I'll let you know as soon as you can see Keith."

"Now, you're mocking me," Lance grumbled. With a frustrated sigh, he watched Dr. Katrine return to her sterile environment behind the glass doors. He knew she belonged there, not taking an active part in real society. Genuine people live outside the glass, not protected in it from emotions.

Punching a fist into the couch cushion, Lance couldn't contain his rage at what was happening. Not only was he suddenly in command of Voltron, he was down two pilots. This day was just getting worse by the minute.

Lance ran his hands through his hair, not really knowing where to start. He always left such decisions to Keith, and now he had to try to figure out for himself just what to do. Trying to piece things logically, Lance thought through how the Drule had tortured Keith, and it was a personal attack. He could tell that much just from what he saw, yet none of it made any sense. Lotor would never give up the princess, but the Drule leader had merely left her in a dungeon for a lowly jailer.

Lance reached into his jacket pocket and took out the handkerchief that he found on the floor of the dungeon. It was smudged with dirt and a boot print. The embroidered flower design was frayed and torn. He had no doubt that it belonged to Princess Allura, and he was going to be sure to return it to her.

As the door opened to the waiting area, Lance returned the cloth back into his pocket. He wanted to find out what had happened first, and he knew that Princess Allura would be the place to start. However, with Hunk, Pidge, and Dirin entering the room, his questions would have to wait for now.

"You look like Hell," Dirin commented, trying to offer some kind of levity to Lance.

Lance couldn't find it within him to joke back, even though prior to learning Keith's condition he probably would have. "It's not good," he replied.

"Talk to us," Hunk said as he found a place on one of the couches.

Pidge settled onto the opposite side of the couch from Hunk, and Dirin preferred to stand.

Lance looked up to Hunk and Pidge. He hadn't seen them in so long and now he didn't want to be in their presence offering the bad news. Closing his eyes, he tried to gather his thoughts, wondering how the hell he would tell them when he couldn't even comprehend it himself. Shutting himself down for a moment, he just decided to throw out the facts in short bursts. "Keith had a lot of internal damage. The doctor is sure it will all heal. He's undergoing some kind of medicine bath to speed up the healing of his wounds. Keith fell into a coma, and the doctor doesn't know if he'll wake up or when. The princess is suffering from post-traumatic distress. She's being sedated and observed. The doctor told me that she she'll contact us when we'll be able to see Keith."

Opening his eyes, Lance wished he hadn't as he was sure that the shock and horror on his friends' faces mirrored his own.

Dirin politely looked away from the Voltron pilots to give them a moment to absorb the news. Their silence gave a sense of grief to the room.

"What are we going to do about Voltron?" Pidge finally asked.

Lance stood up from the couch. He was suddenly too restless to sit, and again he could only speak in facts. "There's only three of us. Until Keith is back to a full recovery, I guess I'm in command."

"I know it's not my place to interfere," Dirin offered, looking back to the group, "But with your permission, my military and I will remain in Arus' orbit. I think we all know that with Arus vulnerable, the Drule may try to attack again soon."

Lance took a breath. "Thanks."

Dirin gave a nod of his head. "Please excuse me while I go inform my officers of their new assignments." Quietly, he left the room.

"And to think, we didn't like him at first," Pidge shrugged, trying to lighten the gloomy mood.

Hunk stared at a floor tile, lost in his own thoughts and had not heard Pidge.

Lance felt he failed his friends and abruptly slapped the door release. "I need to go for a walk."

Pidge adjusted his glasses after Lance disappeared. He looked to Hunk, and saw that the bigger man had returned to the present. He cautiously asked him, "This isn't the end, is it?"

Hunk turned to Pidge. He sighed and slumped in defeat. "I hope not, little buddy. I hope not."

-- -- -- -- --

Lance moved briskly down the hallway, pausing only long enough to get directions and find his bearings on the ship. He had to find the princess. He hadn't seen her since they arrived on _Mercy's Heart_. The medical staff had taken both of his friends from Shepherd's care as soon as they got on the medical frigate, and he was tired of being left in the dark. At least Lance knew he could depend on Shepherd to be honest and show signs of a personality. That damn Doctor Katrine needed a heart transplant, the kind that allows empathy and sympathy to patients' friends and families.

Hitting the door release to the quiet medical ward, Lance hurried to the check-in station. The man and the woman behind the desk looked up from their reviews of the patients' charts.

"I'm Lance of the Voltron Force," he explained as calmly as he could. "I need to see Princess Allura."

The man glanced down at a computer screen and tapped a few keys. After a moment, he looked up, seeming to be relieved to have a minor interruption in his tedious tasks. The technician pointed to a set of pastel blue curtains behind which was a glass wall with a door. "You have full clearance. She's in a private room beyond those curtains."

"Thank you," Lance said as he turned quickly. He stepped into the private room where Princess Allura was assigned. He closed the door quietly behind him and looked to her. Her torn uniform had been replaced with a set of white pajamas, and a white blanket was folded up to her stomach. She appeared to be sleeping in a soundless trance, as there was no sign of the distress she supposedly had undergone. However, Lance knew that certain drugs could easily make a person find a state of false comfort. Medicine could only go so far with healing someone. In order to mend a soul, however, a human connection was the only assurance. And, Lance knew exactly what it was like to need that kind of comfort.

His little sister Jenny was born when Lance was eight years old. She started out healthy and strong, giving their parents just as much trouble as Lance had. In fact, as she grew, she did all she could to keep up with Lance and try to outdo his childhood antics. By the time Lance got into high school, he had matured considerably and worked hard on his grades and his placement in his classes.

When Lance turned fourteen, Jenny became very ill. The pediatrician had begun a long string of tests and that led them to specialized doctors. Eventually, no one could do much more for Jenny than just admit her to a children's hospital where she would live out her life hoping that the miracle cure would be developed before it was too late for her.

Lance remembered so much of his time was spent in the hospital with Jenny, listening to the doctors talk in circles and never offering a straight answer. There was always some excuse about the insurance not covering experimental options and that the experimental options weren't guaranteed to do anything anyway. Lance's parents had just about given up trying to understand the medical jargon and the excuses, but Lance never backed down from asking questions. He tried to be her big brother and do what he could for her. He challenged the doctors and their techniques, always complaining about their false smiles and their feigned compassion. He had called their bluffs, and the doctors finally stopped talking to him.

Before long, his grades had slipped considerably, and he suddenly had no concern about anything anymore. Jenny's sickness had taken its toll on him, and her impending death changed him for the worse. He was suspended from school for gambling and fighting, and it seemed there was no one who could bring him back to the decent young man he was. At one point, he stole one of the teacher's sports cars for no other reason than he wanted to see what it would be like to drive over 200 mph.

When he was sixteen years old, Jenny finally lost her battle. A few days after the funeral, Lance got expelled from school and was court-ordered to either finish his schooling in a private corrections facility or to join the space academy. Needing to get away from the life he once knew, Lance opted for the space academy.

Keith and he met under less-than-satisfactory circumstances. Lance couldn't resist the easy target that Keith was. He constantly teased and annoyed him about being so exact and formal, setting him up in the classes to take the punishment, and embarrassing him at every turn. One night, Keith had reached his limits with Lance, and he decided to fight back. Their fistfight was vicious, marked by bruises and bloody knuckles, and it took the strength of four security officers to physically restrain them both.

The housing officer had them confined in his office where the school's admiral would decide whether to expel them or find something more suitable. The admiral opted for punishing them by forcing them to become co-commanders in their squad. Dumbfounded, the two of them protested. However, the admiral was insistent that they resolve their differences or else they would not only be dishonorably discharged from the academy, but their entire squad would suffer.

The next day, Keith had acquired a pair of 24-hour leave passes and took Lance off the academy grounds. Against Lance's wishes, Keith took him camping to a quiet lake in the midst of a mountain range. "Now would be your chance to kill me if you want," Keith had told him, trying to be funny.

Lance remembered wanting to take him up on the offer but then Keith unpacked a decent-sized bottle of whiskey. He opened it and poured equal shares into a pair of shot glasses.

"I'm not a drinking man," he explained after he had picked up the glass. He offered the other to Lance. "But, some things just can't be said without a little help."

Lance hadn't cared why Keith brought the alcohol. He was just glad to see some kind of recreation other than swatting away bugs all night. He didn't know it then but Keith, in his underhanded way, had gotten the two of them dumbfounded drunk with the intention to find out about why Lance harbored so much anger. Lost in the buzzed stupor, Lance had offered his frustrations about Jenny. In turn, Lance learned about Keith's parents. By the time the glow of dawn filtered in between the mountain ranges, they each had a new understanding of the other and a hangover to match. In addition to their tragic losses, they learned about their similarities, their likes and dislikes. Overnight, they had become like brothers, and it was obvious how they balanced each other. The reasons for their partnered leadership became very clear, and they saw what the admiral had seen. Keith was the straight and narrow, careful with his decisions by putting his emotions on the back burner. Lance saw the world through his emotions, the type of person who shot first and asked questions later.

Three months after that night, Sven had been transferred into their squad and took on the co-commander position. Lance relished the opportunity to back down in the ranking and just work on his own skills and lessons. Throughout their time in the academy, the three of them had become so close-knitted that they finished each other's sentences and could blindly run maneuvers between each other.

Bringing his thoughts back to the present, Lance pulled a chair next to the bed and sat on it. He hoped he could have a fraction of the patience that he had seen Keith exhibit. Lance wasn't sure how long he could avoid his frustration while he waited for Princess Allura to awaken.

Pulling the princess's handkerchief from his pocket, Lance hoped that she would be willing to talk to him. He knew that the sight of a familiar face would do more to get past her emotional breakdown than any medicine. Getting her to open up would be the only assurance he had to finally understand what happened in that Drule dungeon and why a man he learned to love like a brother was fighting for his life.

-- -- -- -- --

_Author's Additional Notes_: Special thanks again to my husband (EMT) and my mother-in-law (RN) for helping me with the medical jargon. I'd be lost without my medical consultants! Additionally, I apologize for conjuring my own past for Lance and not following any canon (if any existed), but I have a plan for this.


	24. Chapter 24

_Author's Notes_: Just when I thought this would never come together, the "Eleventh Hour Miracle" struck again! I apologize for the extended delay, but I have been jumping between two universes, and it's not easy. The Voltron Force and my newly forming Republic Commando Squad are both vying for my attention, and I have to keep finding ways to balance them equally.

Special thanks to PrincessAlluraP and DragonLadyRelena for checking in with me and gently nudging me to find my inspiration!

As always…

I hope I continue to do justice to the characters and the series of _Voltron_, and I ask for no flames, please. However, I will accept constructive criticism in order to develop further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I own nothing of WEP or Voltron. However, the citizens of Fedmar and their respective leader are mine. In short, I make no money, and I only write about what I enjoy.

Chapter 24 – Trials of Humanity

_Horror raged around her, screams of agony and heartbreak. The sounds created a terrifying symphony of vile discord. The high-pitched cries of suffering fought for dominance amidst the growls and groans of life forms that were being tortured or left for dead. The dreaded din threatened to shatter her eardrums as it grew in intensity overwhelming her. Deep within the terror that surrounded her, one scream dominated through the noise. Allura knew his voice anywhere, even if it was in suffering and agony instead of joy and laughter. His cries broke her heart, threatening to shatter her very spirit into the abyss of hopelessness that surrounded her._

_Allura felt her sanity and her freedom being ripped away, as the chains held her tight against the pillar. The struggle of trying to get free to help him left her breathless and exhausted. Slumping in defeat, she could only keep her eyes closed, hoping the darkness would hide the noises that she no longer wanted to hear._

_Then, abruptly, the silence came, and it frightened her with a terror she could never imagine. His screams had ended, and the agony around her was stilled into an eerie calm. The echoes of the horror from the other beings recessed into the distance where it was less threatening._

_Hopeful once more that the nightmare had concluded, she finally opened her eyes expecting to see her castle walls, the interior of her Blue Lion, or even the darkness of the cave she so often frequented._

_Instead, her world, the one she chose to exist within, had been destroyed._

Keith!

_His body was crumpled before her, nothing more than a thrown away doll. The chains on his wrists were like strings holding a marionette from falling onto the ground. Her breath got caught in her throat at the dark pool of blood that covered him. She had never seen so much of it spilled before, and she didn't think it was possible for such an amount to come from any one person._

Keith?

_She wondered if he could hear anymore. She hoped he was at peace, no longer able to feel the residual strikes of Lotor's fists and the burn of the whip. The broken rattle of Keith's labored breathing told her that he didn't have much longer to live._

_Once again, she tried to pull on her restraints. She needed to comfort him in his last moments and let him know that someone was nearby and still cared for him._

_Hot breath brushed against her cheek, and it tore her away from his final minutes, denying her the chance to give Keith her undivided attention. _After the commander is dead, you will be given to the guard, Graf. He had been begging for a royal_harchok_for months now, and I think a used, former princess is better than no princess in his eyes. I suggest you pray your husband dies soon if you don't want to watch him suffer for long.

_Lotor's words will forever be etched in her memory now. He took from her the man she loved, her husband, her Keith. Lotor was never supposed to know, and in the silence of her torment she had to live with the knowledge that she killed the man she loved. The numb agony she felt was nothing short of a hell she knew she belonged within. She could feel nothing and everything all at once and there was no stopping it._

_Then, a hand that was foreign and unforgiving took a hold of her hair. He wanted to take her from one hell and bring her into another. His yellow eyes were hungry with a need to dominate and control. His touch held no compassion, no honor. His fingers sought defects in the fabric of her uniform, trying to find an easy passage to that which his hunger demanded. Unable to find any such flaw, his knife suddenly appeared, and the flames of the torches seemed to lick the blade, reflecting the image of hell back to her._

_For a moment, her voice found strength, and her fight returned. She had to get free so she could tell the others that Voltron might still be alive. The knife came at her._ Go to Hell_, she had told the Drule jailer._

_The smile that came over him sent a shard of cold fright directly into her chest. He wouldn't care either way if she fought or remained passive. He already knew the outcome of this contest, and he just simply had to decide what kind of pain he wished to inflict upon her._

_Then, everything around her disappeared. She could no longer see, feel, smell, taste, or hear._

Keith! _she screamed, trying to find him in the blackness that was drowning and suffocating her._

A sudden rush of air filled her and she emerged from the nightmare. Hands were on her shoulders, and she fought against what she thought was the guard. Her hands flew around her, trying to fight him away, but her arms were stilled at her sides. Warmth surrounded her, but it was not the hold of someone seeking dominance. It was an embrace, an attempt to comfort. A recognizable scent of leather came to her and she paused in the struggle. Her instincts told her that the scent was friendly and familiar.

"Princess, you're safe now," a voice spoke.

Opening her eyes, Allura saw a pale cream room that was sterile and plain. With the exception of two undersized cabinets, the room was small and lacking in furniture. The glass doors were covered in fabric, preventing anyone from seeing her. The coldness of the décor was a harsh contrast to the warmth of the person holding her.

"Keith?" she dared to ask.

Lance pulled back from Allura, his hands offering her the comfort of safety as they stayed on her shoulders. He looked to her eyes and could see that she was broken inside, nothing but shattered remains as her spirit was lost within heartbreak and regret.

A man ran into the room wearing an opened long-coat in the color of light blue. His set of clothes underneath resembled a black suit with a vest and matching pants. The man looked to be only a couple years older than Lance, but his dark, thin moustache and matching short hair gave the appearance of being older than he was. His pale blue eyes stared accusingly at Lance as though he had disturbed the princess. He pulled from his pocket a small vial. "She needs her next dose."

The Voltron pilot turned from Allura but did not flinch as he turned to the doctor. "Who the hell are you?"

"Doctor Ethan, specialist of cerebral and psychological disorders," he answered as he moved closer. "I'm going to need to ask you to leave for a few moments."

Lance looked to Allura and saw a terror in her eyes, a fright that came from something deep within. He shook his head. "No, she needs a friend, someone familiar."

"You're a pilot, not a doctor," Dr. Ethan explained with a sense of calm. "She's not ready yet to face the demons of her experiences."

Allura grabbed onto Lance's arm, her eyes staring hard at him. A single tear slid free, and her voice was soft, hoarse. "Don't leave me."

Lance took a deep breath, knowing that if he showed any of the anger he felt, the doctor would be sure to find him a bed as well. "With all due respect, doctor, please just give us a few minutes. Let me talk to her. Alone."

Dr. Ethan studied the two Voltron pilots for a moment. He saw how his patient held onto her friend, looking to him for support and protection. He saw how her friend stayed unmoving, and that it would require physical restraint to take him away. Sighing quietly, he put the vile back into his pocket. He wasn't in the mood to fight a battle today, especially not with a pilot who could outmatch him physically. And, having to call security would require him filling out an incident report he really didn't feel like submitting. "Call for help at the first sign of distress."

As soon as the doctor was gone, Lance muttered under his breath. "I _really_ hate doctors."

"Where's Keith?" Allura asked, as her eyes once again took on the appearance of a frightened child.

"He's in recovery," Lance offered, not quite sure how much to reveal and even more uncertain about how well she would handle it.

It took a moment before the word "recovery" worked itself to Allura's brain. Looking up, the hope returned to her eyes. "He's alive?"

Lance swallowed hard, forcing the anger to stay away. "He survived, but he's in a coma."

"A coma?" she asked sadly, her eyes starting to drift into the darkness of her broken spirit again.

"Princess, stay with me," Lance said strongly. Then, more softly, he told her, "You need to tell me what you remember."

Allura closed her eyes and turned away. "Why?"

Lance put his hand on her shoulder again, and she flinched at the touch. "Do you remember the battle with the robeast?"

Arcs of electrical pain and the feeling of being engulfed in a fireball flashed into Allura's memories. Then, she awoke to a head full of agony in the Drule dungeon. Once the pain subsided, she and Keith talked about the Mage War and Voltron's ability to hide within himself. Keith told her she had to see that they find Voltron's spirit and awaken him, similar to what her father had done years ago.

"We killed the robeast," Allura answered. "But, it tore us apart."

"That's right," Lance agreed. "Once Hunk, Pidge, and I realized you and Keith had been taken, we contacted Dirin for help. His people helped rescue you and Keith. Now, we're on one of Dirin's civilian medical frigates."

Allura's eyes opened and she looked back to Lance. "Keith said you were working on a plan. He refused to believe that you weren't coming."

"We moved as quickly as we could…"

"Lotor wanted to kill Keith because of me," Allura interrupted, fighting against the lump in her throat.

"Because you refused his demands," Lance answered more as a statement of fact. He didn't want to directly interrogate the princess, as he knew that letting her speak in her own time would be more productive. However, he was not going to let her just back down and hide within herself again. Bringing forth the handkerchief Lance found in the dungeon, he said, "I found this and thought you'd want it back."

Allura swallowed hard, recognizing the embroidery despite the grime on the fabric and the threads that had begun to unravel. It was no longer hers, but Lance didn't know that. The pain tore through her again, the agony of watching and hearing Keith's torment. She tried to speak, but her voice broke and her words choked in her throat.

"I know you love him," Lance said quietly. "Keith won't admit it, but he loves you, too."

A thin line of tears slipped down her cheeks, and she found it comforting that Lance only spoke in the present tense. He refused to accept the concept that Keith might be dying.

Lance continued to talk softly. "I tease that man every day about his attraction, but he always complains about propriety and Arusian laws. I don't think he would know how to break a rule, even if I give him an axe and an instruction manual."

Despite the tears, Allura couldn't help but allow a tiny smile at Lance's gentle ridicule. Her fingers now took the handkerchief carefully, afraid that it might disintegrate and erase every memory of her happiness with Keith. Slowly, she brought her eyes to Lance and looked at him as though really seeing him for the first time. She knew now that he should have been included in her relationship with Keith from the start. They had no right to leave him out of their lives when his undying loyalty to them and the team went beyond a mere pilot's responsibilities. He was not tied Keith as a brother through blood, but he had the right to be considered as such. She took a strong breath, refusing to hide from it any longer. The lie she lived with Keith had nearly destroyed them both, and it was time to live the truth.

Quietly, Allura spoke, and even though her voice conveyed a confession of guilt, there was an underlying joy within it as she could not hide her happiness for having been truly in love. "You don't give Keith enough credit. He did more than break a rule. He and I broke the law." Remaining strong, she had no choice now but to admit it. "We married secretly, and it means I'm no longer the princess of Arus."

Lance shook his head, unable to comprehend what she just said. Part of him believed that she was still under the influence of medication, and she was admitting to a fantasy of what she wished had happened. The other part of him saw so clearly in her eyes that she spoke the truth.

Allura brought the handkerchief closer to Lance, making him understand. "I gave him this the night we took our vows, and he gave me the picture of his parents."

Lance felt his throat suddenly grow tight, and he closed his eyes rubbing them with the palms of his hands. When he opened his eyes again, he no longer saw Allura as the self-conscious princess who was continually treated like a child. He now saw a woman that understood life in a new capacity. She had been freed from her sheltered life and received her set of scars, figurative marks that would change her into a stronger person. She knew grief, regret, and heartache but she also knew love, companionship, kindness, and devotion among so many other emotions.

"When you guys have kids," Lance said, ignoring the tear on his cheek, "I get first dibs on being the godfather."

Allura smiled and suddenly touched her face. For a few moments, she had forgotten about the discomfort of the bruise. "Lotor knows," she explained as she gently wiped her own tears away.

"Then, everyone needs to know," Lance replied. "Ancient laws have a tendency to be outdated and never make sense in modern situations."

"Nanny will kill us all," Allura breathed.

"Yes, she probably will," Lance agreed. "But, if you're no longer a princess, then she has no more command over you."

Allura thought about that for a moment. Her eyes caught Lance's. "Keith was very lucky to have you beside him, and I am honored that you are my friend."

"Now don't get all mushy about it," Lance said, trying to sound like he was teasing her and hide the anguish he truly felt inside. As he stepped away, he changed the subject forcing himself to work on a task he could fix. "We need to find you some clothes so you're presentable to the others."

--- --- --- --- ---

_He straightened his arms, steadying the blaster in place and balanced his stance, lining his feet up under his shoulders. Shifting his arms a little to the left and up a notch, he lined up the shot. With practiced hands, his fingers curled around the trigger of the blaster, and the weapon rested comfortably within his grip._

_The target was only twenty feet down the range, but the shooter wasn't planning to take sniper shots. He was practicing close-range pistol shooting, and the more he was able to connect on the head and chest on the practice target, the better score he'd get. Right now, he needed to best last week's score. Currently, last week's score had bested the week before, and so forth. But, that was just his way. He had to get better at everything he did, even if it took repetition through practice sessions for weeks._

Practice makes perfect_, he recited silently in his mind, the corner of his lips tugging into a wry smile. Some day, he planned to graduate from the academy and find himself on a real mission, a real adventure. If he wanted any chance to survive what lay ahead, he had to be the best he possibly could. Anything less and his exploits would be short-lived. It wasn't exactly the way he wanted to end things. He planned to adventure on for years: discovering new worlds, learning about cultures beyond the solar system, and forging alliances with planets hoping that they would be encouraged to join Galaxy Garrison._

_In the matter of seconds it took him to set himself properly in the appropriate positions, his eyes focused clearly and intently on the target. Without further thought, he fired off the blaster, and the energy beams stuck their marks._

_The target suddenly began to move in erratic patterns along the track, and the shooter smiled with shrewd intent. A moving target meant that he had finally surpassed the beginning levels of the shooting practice drills, and he had subtly graduated onto the next level of difficulty._

_He didn't expect it to be easy, and he was pleasantly surprised by the complexity that now came with the new exercises. His headshots were non-existent, but he had three confirmed chest shots so far._

_Then, the shooting range suddenly shut down and the lights returned to normal. Hoping it was maybe some special test, the shooter held the weapon in a ready position and backed himself against a wall. He didn't like the idea that his exercise was left incomplete, and he was prepared to have some very un-cadet-like words with his instructor, if that was the case._

_After a few moments, the door opened. The training sergeant entered. He was a short, stocky man in his early fifties with graying blonde hair and dull, blue eyes. A thin scar ran along his cheek, something he bragged about as the result of a decent knife fight when he was on the front lines years ago. His broad chest caused the cadets to think of him as a bulldog. More often than not, he was referred to as Sergeant Bulldog instead of Sergeant Wilson, and the instructor preferred the nickname as he felt it suited him just fine._

_"At ease, cadet," Bulldog said in his gravelly voice. "You're needed in Admiral Burke's office."_

_The young cadet set the safety on the weapon and turned it properly over to the instructor. Then, he took a moment to smooth out his gray duty uniform, making sure nothing was out of place. Subconsciously, his fingers ran over his short, dark hair. He briefly felt somewhat naked without the usual fullness that his hair had. All his life, he had some kind of thick mop on his head, refusing haircuts and fighting the barbers every chance he got. As soon as he joined the academy, though, he knew he could not resist the regulations and was issued the standard military cut._

_One day, he mused, he was going to grow his hair again. He just preferred it long._

_Ten minutes had passed while the cadet was in his musings, and in that time, he and Bulldog had arrived at their destination._

_Standing in the at-ease position in the admiral's office, the cadet took a calming breath. He made sure his feet were settled under his shoulders and his hands were clasped loosely behind his back. Screwing up "at-ease" in front of the admiral would not only show laziness on his part, but it would prove that his training sergeants had not done their job properly. The cadet knew he and his sergeants had done the best job they could._

_Briefly, the cadet tried to imagine why he was summoned to see Admiral Burke. The feedback reports he had received from his instructors showed that he had been accelerating in his training and being a model cadet. The young man hoped that maybe he was about to receive a special commendation._

_Having finally arrived, Admiral Burke sat heavily into the chair behind his desk. He was an older gentleman, close to retirement age. His thick, white hair was short and clean. His brown eyes weren't shining in their usual cheerful manner. The thick wrinkles along his forehead seemed to be etched suddenly deeper._

_"Cadet Keith," Burke said nodding his head in recognition. The admiral had an unusually soft-spoken voice. Almost everyone agreed that he reminded them of the ideal picture of a grandfather: patient, knowledgeable, and strong, but able to whip out appropriate punishment in the blink of an eye. "Have a seat, son."_

_Keith paused to glance at Sergeant Bulldog. The instructor nodded in a small gesture, allowing the younger man the offered seat. Silently, Keith settled himself into the chair._

_"Sir?" Keith asked carefully._

_Admiral Burke tried to sit up straighter, but his shoulders continued to sag, and it wasn't from his age. He held a great weight upon his shoulders. Looking at his cadet, the admiral took a heavy breath. "We just received word that a commercial airliner lost contact with its tower."_

_Still not certain what was going on, Keith remained quiet and allowed the admiral his moment to gather his thoughts carefully._

_"It took off from Colorado Springs with a destination to Honolulu, and the wreckage was found about an hour ago. There were no survivors."_

_Keith felt everything he had ever known suddenly break and shatter within him._

_"They planned that vacation for years…" he started, but his voice trailed off, and he shook his head, trying to deny the possibility. They had waited until he was old enough to not need them anymore, and they wanted a chance to share a break from the mundane where they could renew their relationship._

_Suddenly, Keith's eyes looked up as a small, but hopeful thought came to him. "Are you sure they even boarded? There could have been…"_

_The admiral lowered his eyes heavily. "Their boarding passes were confirmed. I'm sorry, son, but your parents…"_

_Keith dropped his head into his hands and felt his body crumple in the seat. He tried not to allow the tears, but there was no control over the emotions that swallowed him whole. Memories flashed through his mind. Images and feelings filled him. The scent of his mother's perfume hung heavily in his nostrils. His father's strong touch was upon him when he was learning to ride a bicycle. Their kind and loving eyes shone with happiness as he opened Christmas presents. Contentment filled their eyes when he announced his registration in the Space Academy, and they couldn't hide how proud they were of him to make that decision on his own._

_"What caused it?" he finally asked after long moments had passed. He felt the dampness on his cheeks, and he didn't care if Bulldog or Burke thought he was weak. He didn't have to justify his loss to them or anyone else._

_"The investigators won't know for a couple days, maybe a few weeks. The pilot was cited as receiving a mechanical failure on one of the wings. Supposedly, they were going to turn back to the airport and land." Burke leaned forward. "We're allowing you a week's leave, son, so you can make arrangements."_

_Keith suddenly shook his head. "They wouldn't want that."_

_"We're still giving you the time, for you to use as you see fit," Burke insisted._

A wave of anguish and sadness filled Voltron's spirit. It was residual affects of connecting with another pilot and having their most sacred emotions shared with him. Most of Voltron's pilots harbored the sadness from the loss of a lover or a child who had been brutally caught in the crossfire of an enemy. The commander's agony came from unexpected loss, the kind that had no catalyst but an ill-fated moment.

Voltron saw how Milady pulled him from the depths of that sadness and loss. The kindness that poured from her sealed the open wounds he didn't have the strength to heal on his own. She gave him the strength to accept his parents' loss and see that life offered other opportunities for happiness. She could do that because she had experienced the same loss and learned to cope with it.

Voltron closed down from the shared memories. He needed to remain patient. One day, he would be freed from the safety of his heart and would be able to flow again through the Lions that were the parts of his body. When that day would come, he would find a new set of pilots awaiting him, just as it always happened. He had hundreds of years of memories to relive, and he would continue to relive them, observing for himself the trials of humanity and how humankind repeatedly overcomes what the universe tries to throw at them.


	25. Chapter 25

_Author's Notes_: Merry Christmas & Happy New Year to all! I probably could have gotten this chapter done sooner, but my laptop picked up a very bad replicating virus that had eaten into the hard drive and destroyed sectors of it as well as the registry. In the meantime, I was left to the mercy of an ancient laptop that likes to die at random intervals. The solution now is to get a new hard drive and load everything from scratch. Good thing for everyone that I work off a flash drive and not a hard drive so nothing was lost. Now, even though it is later than I would have liked, I present Chapter 25.

As always…

I hope I continue to do justice to the characters and the series of _Voltron_, and I ask for no flames, please. However, I will accept constructive criticism in order to develop further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I own nothing of WEP or Voltron, but my imagination lays claim to the origin story that I have created for Voltron. Also, the citizens of Fedmar and their respective leader are mine. In short, I make no money, and I only write about what I enjoy.

Chapter 25 – A Rift Amongst Friends

Cautiously, the Voltron Force filed into the room, not sure what to expect but preparing for the worst. Their tension and nervousness could be felt amongst them all. They all feared it could be the last time they would look upon their commander, but they all prayed they were wrong about that. As they each filed through the door, they found none of them could bring themselves to immediately look upon Keith. Instead, they surveyed the room, noticing the details that surrounded them.

Pastel blue covered the walls, the color similar to the sky in spring after a strong rain had washed away the haze in the distance. Bordered along the top of the room and in the corners were small, ivy-like leaves painted in a rich green with yellow lighting accents. A false window hung on the wall to the right of the bed's footrest and gave off the impression of the sun shining brilliantly through the glass. The unique design even allowed for false sunbeams to touch upon the floor beneath the window. The frame of the window was dressed in a cerulean curtain with soft, white lace streaming down from the fabric. Tiny flower buds were embroidered on the curtain, and the threaded blossoms were the colors of pastel yellow and pink.

To the left of the bed the wall offered a painting of a green meadow that was spotted in blue and violet flowers. The painting was detailed in unusual realism, almost so perfect it was initially mistaken for a photograph. It was a detailed and beautiful concept of a windswept countryside, and the tree in the distance of the painting offered ripe, red fruit that was imagined to be sweet and succulent.

The gentle beep of a monitor caught them off guard, and they were all startled by the deafening sound of it. The noise had drawn their eyes to the form lying in the bed, and it forced them away from the calming atmosphere created in the room.

Dressed in a light green set of steriles, the nurse casually moved around Keith's bed. Her short, jaw-length hair was once dark, but the graying strands had overtaken the brown coloring. She appeared to be aged in her early fifties, but it was difficult to discern her true age. She was extremely agile as she moved about the tight confines of the wires and monitors, and her experience as a nurse showed as she swiftly took note of the readings on the instruments and adjusted them promptly.

She looked to the Voltron Force and smiled softly. Her brown eyes showed sympathy to them but also offered them strength. Her voice was deeper than any of them expected, and she quickly straightened a twisted end of the blanket and tucked it back under Keith's arm as though it was something she did constantly.

"He's a tough one," she told them seeming to be proud of the commander. "His body refuses to give in, and we've seen him respond well to the plasmi treatments."

"What about his consciousness?" Lance asked, taking the initiative to ask the one question they all most dreaded.

"I haven't seen anything in him yet to suggest his brain has recovered. That's what the doctors are for, and in all my years, I can tell you that no two head injuries recover in the same manner." The nurse shook her head. "Cerebral healing is always a tricky recuperation, and the paths that one can take when trying to awaken are as numerous as the stars in the sky."

"That sounded eerily beautiful," Pidge said as he put his hands in his pockets feeling lost suddenly.

The nurse laughed quickly but softly. "Young man, when you've been doing this kind of work for as long as I have it becomes second nature to find beauty in the bowels of despair."

Lance cringed visibly at the nurse's remark, trying not to be entertained by it while at the same time, he found it to be a tasteless comment. He realized that his reaction seemed to brighten her even more in her strange way.

"Pun intended," she smiled with a wink.

"How long can we stay?" Hunk asked, not sure if he liked her odd sense of humor or was afraid of it.

The nurse finished up her meticulous tidying of Keith's blanket. Then, she took out a small datapad and entered in her latest observations.

"Your visit time is only fifteen minutes for now," she explained as she returned the datapad back to her pocket. "Dr. Katrine wants to confirm if he has any progressions in his recovery. As he starts to heal, we can gradually increase your visiting time."

"Thank you," Allura said, trying to smile in gratitude for the nurse's kindness, despite how strangely disturbing the nurse seemed to be at times.

"I've seen worse," the nurse said, attempting to bring a bit of final levity to the group with a gentle shrug of her shoulders, "But, we'll skip that kind of gore for now."

Then, she quietly left the room.

"I'm either going to have a nightmare about her or she's going to single handedly make Keith better," Hunk muttered.

Lance took a soft breath, remembering for a moment all the different kinds of doctors and nurses he had encountered during Jenny's ordeal with her illness. "It's how some of them cope," he offered. "Many medical professionals use a dark and twisted sense of humor to deal with it all."

Allura touched her hand to Lance's arm. "You sound like you've had some experience with this."

Lance shook his head, needing to change the subject. He still wasn't ready to divulge his past, and within seconds he thought of a convincing distraction that wasn't too far from the truth. "I watched too many medical dramas as a kid. Besides, our time needs to be focused elsewhere. Fifteen minutes isn't long."

With Lance's prompting, the Voltron Force shifted their attention to Keith and noticed that he wasn't even recognizable. His cheeks were swollen with bruises, and his long hair was swept back from his face, brushed smoothly onto the pillow. A tube emerged from his mouth, connected to a breathing apparatus. An intravenous line continued to supply his body with nutrients, and there were numerous wires extending to him that were attached to other machines. Most of the wires connected to Keith were hidden under the white bed sheet, out of immediate sight.

Allura swallowed hard and stepped closer, her breathing difficult. Her newly acquired clothes were slightly too tight for her and as she walked, and she found her breath shortened. The brown shirt gave her stiffness in her shoulders, and the matching pants held tightly against her waist. Her pink boots were hidden beneath the clothing, and they were the only things that felt remotely familiar. The staff had promised that they were in the midst of finding the appropriate clothing sizes and that a better outfit would be provided as soon as she finished her visit with the commander.

Continuing to move toward Keith, Allura saw thin bandages over his wrists from where he fought against the dungeon's chains, the oppressive shackles that held him against his will. She couldn't clearly see his back, but there was a layer of what looked like skin attached to him, and she could only assume it was some kind of protective bandage to help heal the cuts he had received from when Lotor struck him repeatedly with the whip.

As for any of the other wounds and the marks from Keith's surgery, the blankets covered them, and Allura was certain there were layers of bandages beneath the blankets hiding his stitches and his healing body.

Shakily, her fingers reached for his hand. As her fingers brushed over his, she felt his rough skin and was reminded of how his hands once felt against her flesh when he was holding her. Memories flashed of his fingers brushing her cheeks and how the calluses would gently scratch against her face. Then, she was flashed back to the intimate embraces they shared in the tower bedroom, and her heart threatened to shatter again. She knew that no matter what happened in his recovery, she would never forget the compassionate darkness of his eyes or the rough heat of his hands.

Taking a heavy breath, she forced the memories aside, somewhat surprised that Keith's hand wasn't frozen cold but was warm and inviting. Logically, she knew it was because of the medical machines and the subconscious part of his mind that continued to make sure his body had adequate blood flow. The imaginative part of her heart believed his warmth was the cause of some spell he was under and with the right enchantment, he would awaken.

Reaching into her belt, Allura used her free hand to bring forth the handkerchief. She glanced at it briefly, feeling the soft material. She had tried earlier to clean it up and remove the grimy reminders of the Drule dungeon, but some of the stains just would not release no matter how much she scrubbed.

"Keith and I need to confess something," Allura said, feeling herself begin to falter. She wasn't sure she was strong enough to admit her marriage. How she had managed to tell Lance, she still wasn't sure. After hiding it for so long, it was harder to speak of it out loud.

Lance moved toward Allura and put a hand on her shoulder for a moment. "They need to know, and it's not my place to tell them."

Gently, Allura put the handkerchief into Keith's hand, returning it to the man who had received it as her gift. She never thanked Lance for having the foresight to take it from the dungeon and bring it safely back to her. She would have to remedy that mistake later.

"What do we need to know?" Pidge asked, suddenly feeling confusion about how going to see Keith turned into a confession of some kind of guilt.

"The reason why Keith is lying here like this," Hunk said. The Yellow Lion's pilot crossed his arms over his chest and sighed heavily. When he brought his eyes to the princess, he couldn't help but feel on his face the accusing glare that he was aiming at her.

"What are you talking about?" Pidge pressed.

"Take your head out of your datapads for a minute, little buddy," Hunk answered without the anger he wanted to feel, pointing now toward Keith and the princess. "And really _look_ at them."

The Green Lion's pilot turned his attention back to his friends and saw something very different about the princess and the way she held onto Keith's hand. "Oh," he breathed. After another second, it truly struck him with what he saw, and he repeated, "_Oh._"

"Okay, Allura, they got the first part of it figured out. Give them the rest," Lance coached. "No holding back."

Keeping her eyes on Keith, Allura breathed heavily, trying to steady herself. She took his hand tighter, trying to gather the strength from him that he always gave her. She closed her eyes and imagined him standing beside her, with his hand on her shoulder. When they were alone, Keith's dark eyes shone with humor at the idea that he finally wasn't the straight and narrow commander they all believed he was. He took pride in having broken more than a little rule, and he was happier for having the courage to break free of the restrictions that surrounded their relationship. He had _someone_ in his life again, someone who he would love and cherish. She gave him a purpose, a reason to fight until his dying breath, and he would do everything in his power to be sure he wouldn't lose her, even if he had to give up himself.

Concentrating on the image of Keith in her mind, the man she loved and married, Allura didn't think about what to say. She just allowed it to flow freely. "We've been married for a couple months. When we took our vows, I secretly gave up my title and position as princess, and when Lotor discovered this, he nearly killed Keith."

Opening her eyes finally, Allura turned to the others expecting the accusing glare on Hunk to turn violent or for Pidge to yell at her. There wasn't even any shock on their faces, nothing to let her know that she had surprised them and upset them. Instead, they merely held their silence. She wasn't sure if their silence was better or if knowing how they truly felt was what she would have preferred.

"Stupid moron," Hunk finally said pointing to Keith. "_He_ could have at least told us."

Pidge shook his head sadly, "Keith is the most private guy I've ever met. You could tell him your worst memory, and he'll let it fester inside himself for you so you don't have to be bothered by it."

Lance stepped closer to Keith and took a moment to study his friend. "He thought he was protecting Allura. He thought he could keep her safe from Nanny and Coran as well as Lotor. He always thinks he can do it all alone, and it's always been his downfall."

Hunk felt his shoulders fall in defeat, and his voice was unusually soft. "I thought a good team didn't keep secrets."

Lance thought back to his sister and the struggle he still maintains to keep her memory alive while he has to relieve her death every day. He knew why he told Keith about Jenny. Pidge was right. Keith had the uncanny ability to take someone's pain and make it his own. Feeling the tightness in his throat, Lance spoke quietly. "Sometimes we need our secrets."

"I'm sure you do," Hunk nodded with a twinge of sarcasm. "When you have that many girlfriends to juggle, you can't let on."

Lance spun toward Hunk and took a breath to try and calm himself. He really wanted to land a fist on his friend's face. In fact, he just wanted to land a fist on someone. The anger had been building inside of him, and every time he thought he was able to suppress it, he found something or someone threatened to bring it to the surface again. This time it was Hunk who nearly had him at the breaking point, and he was finding himself feeling satisfied at the thought of actually getting into a physical fight, even if it was with one of his friends.

"I get it," Lance grumbled, clenching his fists. "You're angry. We all are. We all feel some kind of betrayal about this."

"Funny how you're always included before Pidge or I ever are," Hunk shot back.

"Yeah, and I never asked to be Keith's second," Lance retorted. "He insisted on it, and unfortunately this is the crap I have to deal with in this position."

Hunk started to roll up one of his sleeves. "I'd be happy to give you an early retirement."

Allura released Keith's hand and stepped between the two men. She understood now why she and Keith chose to never tell anyone. They feared it would be the wedge that would divide the Voltron Force. She knew their friends would have been happy under normal circumstances, but while Arus was constantly at war with Doom, there was no such thing as normal.

Finding her voice, Allura discovered that it was stronger than it had ever been before. "Keith wouldn't want you fighting like this, and neither of you have any right to defy the ranks he established."

Pidge joined Allura between the two men. He felt the incredible tension in the room, and the pack of angry beasts they had suddenly become was not who they were. They always resolved their differences civilly, except for Keith and Lance. For whatever reason, their relationship could be tumultuous and still survive. Pidge knew that if a strike landed between Hunk and Lance, it would be the first unraveling of the threads that made them such a strong team.

"Come on, Hunk," Pidge pleaded, "Snap out of it. They're not evil like Lotor."

Hunk took a heavy breath and turned to Pidge. He'll never understand how the kid could bring him back from his rage. Maybe he just reminded Hunk of the siblings he had left back home, and he remembered what it was like to have to stand together in such a big family, especially since things were so tight. Shifting his eyes to Allura, Hunk saw the heartbreak of everything falling apart in her blue eyes. She never wanted anything more than to love Keith and be loved by him. Instead of standing beside her and Keith in their most desperate hour, he was looking to drive the wedge amongst them deeper and scatter the five of them so far apart that they would become nothing more than the five Lions, separated across the world of Arus, just as the Lions were when they had first arrived on the planet.

Unlike the Lions, though, if they were scattered, no one would go looking for them to bring them back together. Galaxy Garrison would simply send in a new team and find new assignments for the rest of them. Then, they would have betrayed Voltron.

Unable to look at Keith, Hunk sighed quietly. "I'm just angry. I feel like we're not good enough or something."

Allura moved toward Hunk and touched his arm. She felt inspired by him and guilty for not recognizing him sooner as the wonderful man that he truly was. "You're more than good enough, Hunk. We were afraid that your fierce want to protect us might have gotten you killed. We were trying to keep everyone from getting hurt or worse because of our selfishness."

Hunk smiled sadly at Allura. Then, he looked to the others before he turned to leave. "I hope you don't mind that I just can't stay here anymore. If Keith doesn't make it, I don't want to remember him like this."

As the door closed behind Hunk, the rest of the team could only stare helplessly at the floor. Each of them silently felt the same way, but none of them had the strength to say it out loud like Hunk could.

"He just needs time to accept all this," Pidge said sadly. "It's too much, too unreal right now."

Allura turned back to Keith, studying the medical devices connected to him. "I think I understand how he feels."

Glancing over his shoulder at Lance and Allura, Pidge explained, "Hunk was right about one thing. If Keith doesn't make it, I don't want to remember him like this either."

Moving toward the door and opening it, Pidge whispered, "I'm sorry."

Allura closed her eyes and took Keith's hand again in hers. Her voice was soft but tight. "We destroyed the Voltron Force, didn't we?"

Lance took a quiet breath. His anger had subsided again, only to be replaced by the ache of grief. He decided he liked the anger better, but now was not the time to let it consume him. "We all need time. We just got slammed with our worst nightmares."

"I never even got a chance to tell everyone about Voltron," she said opening her eyes.

Lance looked at her suddenly. "What about Voltron? He's dead."

Allura shook her head and turned to Lance. "No, Keith believes he's merely hibernating. There's a secret chamber, a heart, in Black Lion that Voltron's spirit hides within in the event of a catastrophic attack. Keith seemed very certain we could awaken Voltron by accessing that heart."

Lance ran his hands over his face. "We have to get back to Arus. The planet is vulnerable right now. Even Dirin's fleet can't handle a robeast. Only Voltron can."

The same nurse who had been in the room earlier entered and had missed the drama that played out amongst the Voltron Force. She seemed a little concerned when the entire team wasn't in the room, but decided it wasn't her place to ask questions.

"I'm sorry," she said, "but I'm going to have to end your visit for now. We'll advise you when you can come back."

Allura turned to Keith and leaned forward to softly touch her lips to his forehead. She hoped the touch of her lips would awaken him, like a scene from a romantic tale that involved magic and a happy ending. She wished that his hand would suddenly rise to hers in response, and for a moment she held her breath. Then, when she pulled back from Keith and nothing happened, she felt her heart fall into her stomach and knew that her wish had been denied. She began to wonder if he was rescued too late, and the damage that had been done was irreversible. She had no idea what she would do if that was the case. She was no longer a princess, and without Voltron, she wasn't even a pilot anymore. She had become nothing but a commoner and if the Voltron Force ceased to exist, she would lose the only true friends she had ever known.

Stepping away from Keith, Allura followed Lance out of the room. She had to begin considering her options for her future. The life she had once known and was familiar within was nothing but a distant memory now, and she realized that if she was offered the chance to relive the past few months knowing her future, she would undeniably allow herself the chance to share her love with Keith again. Some things were just more right than the wrongs they created.


	26. Chapter 26

_Author's Notes_: I can't find enough ways to thank everyone for the continued interest! What started as a simple one-shot has truly taken off into it's own "epic," and it's because of the encouragement I received that I had expanded my humble, little story. I never planned 26 chapters, and the ending is still not as close as I had hoped. So, without further delay, I present Chapter 26 – a nod to all of us Lance lovers! ;-)

As always…

I hope I continue to do justice to the characters and the series of _Voltron_, and I ask for no flames, please. However, I will accept constructive criticism in order to develop further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I own nothing of WEP or Voltron, but my imagination lays claim to the origin story that I have created for Voltron. Also, the citizens of Fedmar and their respective leader are mine. In short, I make no money, and I only write about what I enjoy.

Chapter 26 – A New Beginning

_Commander._ As soon as they would return to Arus, it would become his new rank, and Lance was entirely uncomfortable with it. Commander was a foreign term to Lance, as it wasn't his title, and he secretly hoped that it never would be. He never imagined that his change in rank would come to him under such circumstances. Lance had never complained when Keith put him in charge for short-term assignments because he knew he could always hand back the responsibilities when the mission was done. But, here he was, standing in Keith's place trying to comprehend how it all happened so quickly.

Coming to the realization that he might be permanently responsible for his friends was a weight greater than Lance could withstand. He admired Keith for keeping his sanity, and Lance couldn't imagine how Keith maintained his composure while he was constantly worrying about each of them. It wasn't who Lance was. He was better at getting in the way of the proverbial bullets than ordering his friends to do so in his place.

Rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands, Lance tried to push aside the thoughts for a moment. Dropping his hands to his sides again, Lance realized that he had given up hope and stopped waiting for the miraculous chime on his transmitter, the one that came from the medical staff informing him that Keith had finally awakened. In fact, in the last day or so, Lance also stopped waiting for his alarm clock to chime and wake him from the nightmare he was living.

Letting his brown eyes scan over the shielded glass of the observation deck on the medical frigate, Lance watched as Dirin's military fleet carried about their patrols around _Mercy's Heart_. The medical frigate had received a full military escort to Arus, as Dr. Katrine was insistent that Keith remain stable for as long as possible. She was entirely against the thought of transferring Keith to a smaller transport craft and then to another transport to land on Arus, fearing that moving him more than was necessary would endanger the stability she had worked so hard to achieve for him. It was decided that _Mercy's Heart_ would make the trip to Arus and then Keith would only need to be transported once from _Mercy's Heart_. It was a risky chance with the possibility that the Drule could attack, which was why the medical frigate came in with nothing less than an armada.

Dirin's patrols had regularly reported in during the last week that the Drule had not made any further attempts to attack Arus, and it was advised that if they returned to Arus during the lull, it would be the safest chance they would get. Lance couldn't help feeling that the Drule had to be planning something. Between Voltron in stasis and the Voltron Force torn apart, Lotor had more than enough opportunity now to annihilate Arus. Lance believed it was just a matter of when they would strike.

Hunk and Pidge had returned to Arus about three days ago to see if there was anything they could do to awaken Voltron's spirit. They reported in twice, advising that their attempts so far had been unsuccessful.

Within the next couple days, Lance and Allura were to take the transport back to Arus' surface with Keith. It was just a matter now of the medical staff providing the most stable transport they could and making the transition as smooth as possible.

Lance breathed softly, making another silent final plea that his commander status would only be for a short time. He was content to be a second-in-command and hoped to have that be his position for the rest of his career. It was too hard to worry and care for his team as a commander, where he had to make the decisions that would either harm them in ways he didn't want to imagine or his decisions would bring about a victory that risked far too much.

The sound of footsteps echoed quietly on the deck plating, and Lance turned to see that Allura now stood next to him. The medical people had made good on their promise to find her better clothing. Every outfit he had seen her in fit her appropriately, and today she wore a pale yellow shirt that was simple in design. The long sleeves were a little too long, and she had to fold them back, but overall, the garment complimented her. The gray pants held against her waist without needing a belt, and the length hid her pink boots well, as only the tips of her boots were visible.

Lance noted that Allura was finally looking something like her usual self. The bruise on her cheek had subsided considerably, but her eyes were still sad. She was far from the broken woman he had encountered just a few days ago, and the strength in her blue irises was growing a little more each day.

"If you wanted to be with Dirin, you could have had all this," Lance said noting the patrolling ships and battle cruisers around them with a small gesture of his hand. It was his worst stab ever at humor, and he felt himself shudder internally.

A tiny smile crept across her face as she respected Lance's attempt at being witty, and she truly appreciated how he wanted to see her smile again. "You know I didn't want this. I belong with all of you."

"You only belong with Keith," Lance said sadly. "I tried forever to get him to see it. I just can't believe…" He let the sentence hang because it still seemed far too unreal. He never thought he'd see the day where Keith and Allura were finally together, and he was certain that he'd never see Keith, the man he considered his brother, fight onto life with the barest of threads.

Allura let her eyes follow one of the Condor-fighters. It streaked by, arcing around one of the other ships in the fleet. She watched it until it faded away, curving past the far side of the command ship. Her voice was quiet, her eyes looking at nothing but seeing everything. "I gave it up for him. I was the last heir to Arus' throne, and I walked away from it."

Lance looked to her, and he was not going to allow her take the guilt for the emotions she had wanted to share with Keith for so long. "We all know you were only a princess in title. If you want to believe in fate, you weren't destined to be a princess. You were destined to be a pilot."

That brought another small smile to her face, and she looked to Lance now. "Keith knew what he was doing when he made you his second."

Lance snorted through a sarcastic laugh to try and hide his dark mood. "He knows how I hate responsibility. It's his way of getting back at me for all the tormenting I've ever done to him."

"He trusts you." Allura explained. "I trust you. I don't think anyone else would have done for me everything that you did. I wanted to thank you."

Lance brought his eyes to hers. "I didn't do anything special. I just did what I would have done for any of the team."

Allura placed a gentle hand upon his shoulder. "And maybe that's why it means so much."

"Then, why do I feel like a failure and that I can't get us back together? We both know that Keith would have fixed us in a couple hours, and here I am three days later with a split team. We're divided when we should be together."

Allura thought about that, and she mulled it over in her mind. Her hand came from him, and she folded her fingers before her. "Maybe because we need to be apart in order to be together again. I know it makes little sense, but sometimes a separation allows for stronger bonds."

"So what am I supposed to be doing to keep from going insane?"

"Do me a small favor," she said gently.

Lance quickly looked to Allura. "Small favors usually mean big problems."

His quick, matter-of-fact reply made Allura laugh softly. "You already know what I'm going to ask, don't you?"

"Fine, I'll try to be nicer to Dr. Katrine," he sighed.

Allura had witnessed on a couple occasions how Lance held forced politeness around the doctor, and his distrust of medical professionals came across quite strongly in his mannerisms. Allura had insisted that he make an effort to be less cold, as she wanted Dr. Katrine to return to Arus and work with Dr. Gorma during Keith's recovery. They both knew that Dr. Gorma's expertise was limited, and if they had Dr. Katrine and the Fedmar medical equipment for a short while, there was the potential that Keith would awaken quicker.

"It's more than just being nicer," Allura told him. "You need to convince Dr. Katrine that you are not her enemy and that you want her to come with us when we return to Arus. Please, Lance, do this for Keith."

Lance crossed his arms over his chest and breathed heavily. He didn't like the idea of talking to Dr. Katrine, especially not on a personal level. There was something about that woman that he couldn't quite grasp, and it bothered him. He wasn't sure if it was a familiarity about her or the preference he had to keep her distant. Maybe it was just because she was a doctor, and seeing her flashed him back far too much to Jenny.

Closing his eyes for a moment, he sighed softly, knowing that he had no choice but to give in to Allura if he wanted any chance for Keith to recover. "I'll talk to her because it's Keith, but I'm not going to make any promises."

"Thank you," Allura replied softly.

--- --- --- --- ---

Lance quietly moved down the hallway where the private apartments were on _Mercy's Heart_ and glanced at the small datapad in his hands. The directory of the ship's occupants resembled a typical phone book. In addition to the residential information, there was a series of numbers to use for making communications calls or text messages.

Lance considered sending a message, but he decided that it would make a larger impact if he swallowed his pride for one moment and actually talked to Dr. Katrine face to face.

Checking the number on the door to the number in his datapad, Lance suddenly felt a strange wave of nervousness. Packing the datapad into one of his jacket pockets, he realized that he was either going to come across as some deranged stalker or he was going to be the most crass human in the galaxy. After all, what was he supposed to do…knock on her door, say he was sorry, beg her to accompany them to Arus, and then just leave?

Wondering what he was so worried about, Lance decided that he was going to apologize with the same clinical detachment that she showed him. However, he was just going to do it with more charisma, even if it meant he had to plead with Dr. Katrine that Allura needs her to teach Dr. Gorma all she can.

Putting on his most endearing smile, Lance knocked quietly. After a couple seconds, the door opened, and his eyes trailed down to a little girl of about four years old. Her hair was light brown and near her shoulders with the type of curls that girls around her age are known to have. The child's eyes matched the hazel of Dr. Katrine's, but the face was of someone different. The girl was dressed in a matching set of lavender pajamas, complete with lace trim that hung off the sleeves and the ankles.

Lance felt his smile instantly fall off his face, wondering if maybe he had the wrong apartment. "Um, I was looking for Dr. Katrine…"

"Momma! It's a man," the girl shouted.

Dr. Katrine rushed to the door. "Ella! I've told you not to be answering the…" Her words trailed off, and it was the first time since Lance met her that the doctor did not exude the calm sterility of a medical surgeon. She seemed flustered, even a bit distracted.

He observed that her hair was loose around her face, waves of light brown rounding her cheeks and ending at her shoulders. Prior to this, Lance had only seen her hair pulled back tightly or hidden under a surgical cap. The doctor was dressed in casual clothes, and her light green shirt wasn't the usual scrub style he was accustomed to her wearing. It fit her in a way that enhanced the shape of her body, and the pants she wore looked like a denim material that allowed for the curve of her hips. Lance realized that it was a very noticeable contrast to the straight-cut surgical steriles he had always seen her wearing.

Dr. Katrine caught him staring for a moment. "Lieutenant?"

Lance shook his strange fascination away and took a small step backwards. He tried to compose himself before he got completely flustered. "Um, I can come back if this is a bad time. I can see you've got your hands full."

Dr. Katrine wrapped one of her hands around Ella's hand, collecting herself. "No, it's okay. I was just trying to get someone ready for bed." She laughed nervously. "You can come in."

Reluctantly, Lance stepped into the apartment. The walls were painted in a muted peach color, which was relaxing on the eyes and made the room see larger than it was. The living room was humbly furnished with a long, beige-colored couch and two side-tables that were veneered in a white, bark-like texture. A small dining room was connected to the living room and the only furniture that fit in the space was a square table and four matching chairs made from a light brown wood.

A few holograph stills hung on the walls of the living room, and Lance didn't resist his curiosity. He glanced briefly at them, noting that most of the stills were family portraits, specifically with only Dr. Katrine and her daughter. One picture caught his attention as he thought the man in it looked familiar. He took a moment to study it closer, noting that the man was holding Ella on his lap and wearing the uniform of a Fedmar military medic. Ella was using a stethoscope-like instrument to listen to her own heart, and she was smiling with a mix of curiosity and surprise. Lance now knew without a doubt that he recognized the man's light brown hair and green eyes. It was Shepherd.

For a moment, Lance didn't know what to make of the connection. He wondered just what kind of man the medic really was. Was he cheating on Dr. Katrine? Where they separated, divorced? Why did he suddenly care and want to know?

"Please make yourself comfortable," Dr. Katrine offered as she broke Lance's thoughts for a moment. The young mother was gently pulling Ella with her towards one of the rooms near the back of the apartment. "There are a variety of refreshments in the kitchen. Feel free to get yourself something."

Lance walked towards the kitchen, trying to decide if he was in the mood at all for any kind of beverage, but with the conversation that was taking place between the mother and her daughter, he decided that he would rather pass on the doctor's offer for now.

"Momma! He can read the story."

"Ella, you know better. The lieutenant is a busy man and doesn't have time right now."

"But, Momma, he's one of _them._"

"Ella, don't be rude. I'm raising you better than that."

Lance scratched his head wondering if perhaps he should volunteer. After all, he had read stories to kids before. Moving toward the girl's bedroom, Lance saw no harm in reading a book to a kid. "Um, Dr. Katrine, I could…I mean if you don't mind, I'll read it to her."

Dr. Katrine exhaled visibly in gratitude. "You don't have to," she said unconvincingly.

"Momma, he said he will!" Ella laughed, and she ran towards her bedroom.

"Follow her," Dr. Katrine said with a wave of her hand.

Lance swallowed nervously. He was usually calm around kids. Then, he thought about if Shepherd really was Ella's father. What would Shepherd think if he came in and saw them together? Would it destroy the trust that they had established only a few days ago? Lance thought that maybe that was the reason why he was so nervous. After all, how would he explain to Shepherd that he just happened to be in his kid's bedroom reading a story because fate liked to jerk Lance around in strange ways?

"So, what am I going to read?" Lance asked, pulling a small chair near the bed and sitting upon it, pushing his irrational fears aside. Any father should be proud of his kid getting a personal bedtime story from a member of the Voltron Force. And, Shepherd should know that Lance was no threat.

Ella set herself onto her bed with a small stuffed animal in her hands. The animal looked like a cross between a cat and an otter, and Lance assumed that the planet she was from had animals he just never saw before.

"I want a Voltron story!" she shouted. "You're from the news screen."

Lance turned behind him to see Dr. Katrine standing in the doorframe.

She smiled, "It's okay, if you don't mind. I tried to think of a few tales, but I'm just not good with it. I think she wants to hear it from someone first-hand."

"Okay." Lance watched this little girl with hazel eyes, so full of hope and excitement. He spent the last few days brooding over Keith, and he felt like a failure for having to call in a favor that wasn't his to use from an ally they had just barely met. His team was broken apart and unable to come to terms with their current predicament. And, the mighty robot that this child wanted to hear about might never be used again. Yet, besides all that, Lance knew that if didn't tell a story about Voltron to Ella, the disappointment in her eyes might be more than he could handle. At least if he told a story, he could make a very innocent child happy, and maybe that was what he needed as much as Ella did.

"The sun was shining bright and early…"

--- --- --- --- ---

"…And with the words, 'Form Blazing Sword,' we knew our victory against the robeast was in the bag."

Dr. Katrine placed a hand upon Lance's shoulder and whispered, "She's asleep. That's good enough for now."

Taking the hint, Lance stood from the chair beside the bed and quietly placed it back by the small table in the room. He followed Dr. Katrine from Ella's bedroom.

"I'm sorry you walked into that," she laughed closing the door behind her and leading them back toward the living room. "You handled it well, though. I give you credit, especially after the last few days you've been through."

Lance shrugged his shoulders and glanced back behind him at Ella's room. "It's not the way I was planning to end my day."

"With Ella, there are a lot of ways I don't plan to end my day," she smiled. When they reached the living room, she looked to Lance. "Now that things have settled down a bit, can I ask what brought you to my quarters?"

Lance felt the nervousness begin again. He expected Dr. Katrine to be as clinical and cold as she was in the medical ward, but being with her in her private quarters proved her to be a very different woman. Lance had planned his apology to be similarly clinical and cold, however, she was nothing like the doctor he met over the course of the last couple days. He found she was easy to talk with and that she even had a sense of humor.

"I wanted to say I was sorry for my behavior towards you. I know you're doing all you can for Keith," he said.

Dr. Katrine offered for them to sit at the table in the dining room. "Your help tonight more than made up for it."

She looked to Lance and she decided an explanation on her own behavior was in order as well. Taking a gentle breath, Dr. Katrine told him, "I'm sorry, too, for being so abrupt all the time. Finlon medical schools train their surgeons to be distant from the loved ones of a patient. It's enough that we take the patient's care personally, but we wouldn't make it long in the medical profession if we used the same level of care with the patients' families and friends. There was a time that I used to be more involved, but then I found I wasn't sleeping when I needed, and I wasn't being a good mother to Ella. I learned the hard way that sometimes it's the outside relations that need the most fixing, and for as much as I really want to, a guidance scalpel isn't appropriate to use."

"Well, not legally, of course," he offered with a mischievous smile.

Dr. Katrine's laughter in response was melodic and soft. It was something good to hear after having been to hell and back for the past few days. Her laughter wasn't something he thought she was capable of doing.

Lance found the nervous feelings he had around her were quickly melting away. Seeing her on a personal level changed his perspective, and she was no longer just an authority figure who fixed people, but he was beginning to see her more as a person.

Dr. Katrine looked to him, "Lieutenant…"

"Please, Lance is fine," he interrupted, "I hate titles."

"Okay, Lance," she said as though testing out the name, "Then you can drop the doctor title and just call me Katrine. I'm not on duty."

Lance slumped in the seat, feigning defeat. "Then, come tomorrow morning we have to go back to formalities, right?"

That made her laugh again, and after a moment she looked to him with a raised eyebrow. "_Lieutenant_," she teased, "I didn't concentrate four years of my life on medical training just so the public could ignore my professional title."

Putting his hands up in protest, Lance gave up the mock fight. "Fair enough."

Still smiling at the change in the Voltron pilot, Katrine asked, "Have you decided on a refreshment yet?"

Lance stood from the table, realizing that with every bit of humanity she revealed, he found himself starting to enjoy her company, and he knew that was dangerous. He still didn't know Shepherd's involvement with Katrine and her daughter, and the less he knew, the safer it was for everyone. Special operations soldiers didn't need their personal lives known by anyone, as it would endanger them and their missions.

"Actually," Lance said, "I didn't want to cause a commotion when your husband came home."

Katrine frowned for a moment, and her eyes glazed over with some faraway look. Any sign of the jovial woman had suddenly vanished. Quietly, she sighed, "He's dead."

Lance looked at her as though she was insane. "But, the man in the portrait…"

The doctor brought her eyes up to him, interrupting. "Is my brother, Tiven. Ella only gets to see him once every few months. He's a medic in the military, and his personal leave is very infrequent. It seems they really need his skills."

Understanding that not even Katrine knew her brother's true purpose, Lance kept what he knew secret. Then, he remembered how Katrine had frowned when Shepherd and Jettie left before she got a chance to see them. Now, he understood. Katrine was hoping they would visit longer and possibly spend some time with Ella. Getting back to the conversation and realizing why there wasn't any husband in the photographs, Lance offered his apologies. "I'm sorry for your loss."

She nodded her head absently, standing from the table. Then, she looked to Lance as though recognizing something. "We were very young. I was still in medical school, and he was a fighter pilot in Fedmar's military when we met. Nikkus," she smiled at his name, "and I wed right after my graduation."

Katrine's hazel eyes developed a faraway look as she lived in her memories for a few moments, and her pause spoke volumes of the love they once shared. Lance could see that she would never forget him. "He was shot down in combat two months before Ella was born."

"Oh, God," Lance whispered.

"I know it's just coincidental, but any time I meet a pilot I am reminded of him. I'm not sure if it's something about a uniform or the discipline that the military instills." She laughed briefly and shook her head, trying to lighten her own sadness.

"It can't be the discipline. I don't have much of that," he answered quickly, taking the initiative to bring levity to the mood. Moving his hands over his casual clothes, he told her, "And, I'm out of uniform."

"Then, maybe it's the protective bond that is common among pilots," she tried to reason.

Lance couldn't think of any reply to that because it was true. Any unit, squad, or team that was as close-knit as the Voltron Force understood the bond of comradeship and the brotherly ties that accompanied it.

Stepping closer, Katrine saw some very real pain in Lance's eyes. She could see he was grieving for his friend and for what was destroyed in the last couple days. She was not blind to the fact that he wanted nothing more than to rebuild it and make it right again. However, there was no denying how behind his brown eyes a maelstrom of agony and anger churned.

Lance clenched his fists suddenly as he was aware of Katrine's eyes looking upon him with sympathy. It left him feeling claustrophobic, and he needed space again. It seemed he was always exposed to everyone, and they all knew how to invade the desolation he wanted to keep to himself.

He spun and stepped toward the door. "I'm sorry, but I need to leave."

Katrine took a deep breath, as she knew his ache. If he continued to isolate himself, he would erode his very being. She had once walked a very similar path, and if it wasn't for the support of her family and friends, she would have been a very different woman after Nikkus' death.

"You're not the first person to experience loss," she softly offered taking a step towards him.

Lance moved his hand above the door release button. His thought about his first loss, Jenny, and then he hoped Keith wouldn't be next. He didn't want to feel that kind of pain ever again, and the last thing he wanted was a lecture, least of all from a total stranger. "Yeah, and I won't be the last either."

"Is this what Keith would have wanted of you?" she dared to ask. She knew she was walking on dangerous ground, but if none of his friends had the fortitude to challenge his emotions, then she was willing to take that chance. She was merely a stranger who had a medical degree and the ability to heal physical ailments. She could walk away from him with nothing to lose, as she would just continue on with her normal life. "You can't run from your responsibilities, your team, or what you are."

Lance's hand hesitated above the button, and he felt the confusion overwhelm him. On some deep level, he was angry with the princess and blamed her for causing Keith's condition, but he was also equally angry with Keith because the man knew better and was always spouting a lecture about propriety whenever Lance brought it up. But, the truth was Keith had betrayed him, and that was what angered him more than anything. There were opportunities when Keith merely had to pull Lance aside and tell him, or just say _something_. Instead, the man Lance always thought of as his brother, the one he trusted, truly and honestly trusted, didn't trust Lance in return. That was what hurt him the most and made him so angry.

"Katrine," Lance said softly. He needed to forget the events that put Keith in a coma and the agony that he experienced every moment since it happened. She didn't deserve to get struck by the backlash of his anger and betrayal. She was an innocent in a battle that had nothing to do with her. "I need to walk away because if I don't I might do something I'll regret."

Moving closer, Katrine refused to back down, as she knew what it was like to feel angry and resentful. In her past she had blamed everyone, including Nikkus for being a pilot and herself for being naïve enough to love one. Now, she had the opportunity to stop someone else from knowing that kind of agony.

Speaking in a voice that was sure and certain, she told him, "If you walk away, you will regret having done so. You're letting your anger and resentment change who you are."

Lance closed his eyes and moved his hands into fists at his sides. He knew he was changing, morphing into someone who wanted vengeance and justice for the wrongs committed against him and his team. And, if Keith were around, he could easily talk Lance down from the ledge he was upon. Keith had a way of keeping Lance balanced, and without him, his world was tumbling out of control. The two of them had been together for so long, that Lance just took it for granted. Now, he longed for that stability. Betrayal or not, Keith was his brother. Lance just wanted Keith awake so that he could land a fist in his face one minute and then in the next give him a hug of forgiveness.

Katrine dared to reach a hand out and touch Lance's shoulder. Without thinking, he quickly turned to face her and just executed actions. He hoped that maybe if Katrine slapped him across the face it would wake him up from the nightmare of his anger and pain. Instinctively, his hands found their mark upon her cheeks, cupping her face. He leaned to her, his lips pressing to hers in some urgency he couldn't control. He hoped and expected Katrine to push him away and resist the sudden attack, but to his surprise, she accepted his touch with the same reckless abandon.

Lance's lips pressed hard and strong, an attraction born purely from heartache and need. Katrine replied with similar emotion, the emptiness she had felt for years finally easing away. Their kiss was something tangible and real, like a bandage protecting a tender and healing wound, and the touch of their embrace made them feel alive.

Unable to breathe any more, Lance gently pulled back from Katrine, and he suddenly turned from her as he felt overwhelming regret for his actions.

"I'm sorry…" Lance started.

"Don't be," Katrine interrupted in a flushed whisper, staring at his back. "I shouldn't have pushed your anger."

Lance breathed quietly. "You didn't. You contained it."

He turned to face her now and their eyes stared for a moment as though trying to make sense of what had just happened. Lance looked to her lips once more and realized that in the last couple of days, that moment of blind passion was the only time he didn't feel tired, helpless, angry, or miserable. Seeking that comfort again, he moved slowly hoping that Katrine would not suddenly change her mind and push him away.

Softly, Lance pressed his lips to hers once again, allowing himself to feel their warmth. He allowed his arms to come around her, and his hands pulled her closer to him. Katrine leaned toward him, her arms wrapping behind his neck and drawing him nearer.

Long moments passed this time before the need to breathe again had become too much. Gently, they pulled away, and Lance's brown eyes met her hazel irises.

"You know about my ghost," Katrine whispered. "Tell me who haunts you."

Closing his eyes and taking a tired breath, Lance felt it was time to finally face the past. There was something about Katrine that made him feel safe. It was the kind of security he didn't feel often, and it was the kind of security that scared him. Only Keith had ever earned the right to know so much about him, and now he was about to tell this woman his most personal agony. Speaking softly, he opened his eyes and looked into hers. "My sister's name was Jenny…"


	27. Chapter 27

_Author's Notes_: It's been a long time, and there are a million excuses for the delay, but I won't get into that anymore. I have taken some necessary time from Voltron to hermit myself and do some obligatory soul searching. This chapter is the result of that time away.

As always…

I hope I continue to do justice to the characters and the series of _Voltron_, and I ask for no flames, please. However, I will accept constructive criticism in order to develop further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I own nothing of WEP or Voltron, but my imagination lays claim to the origin story that I have created for Voltron. Also, the citizens of Fedmar and their respective leader are mine. In short, I make no money, and I only write about what I enjoy.

Chapter 27 – Broken Daydreams

Lotor opened his eyes and looked up above him at the heavily draped canopy hanging over the top of his bed. The dark, burgundy fabric was lush and thick, soft to the touch. It was embroidered with black metal threads in a pattern that resembled starbursts and explosions. The fabric had been taken from a merchant in one of Lotor's first raids after he had graduated from the Drule military academy. The merchant had met a horrible fate off the top of a building, and his daughter had found a new life in the palace harem.

The merchant's daughter was not a beautiful girl. Her dirty blonde hair was short and straight, falling just at the nape of her neck. Her brown eyes seemed too small for her rounded face, and her chin was far too pointy to be attractive. Also against her favor with Lotor was that she had been about ten pounds heavier than what he preferred his slaves to be. However, the fact that she was a spoil of conquest was enough of a reason for him to return to Doom with her. Lotor, himself, never bothered with the girl, but he saw to it that she ended up with those who wanted such a creature for themselves. From what was rumored, she didn't perform her duties very well, and she still continued to show some defiance. Lotor was pleased with himself that he never had any desire for her because he would never have taken such defiance from anyone so unappealing.

Studying now the wooden frame that held the canopy in place, Lotor allowed his eyes to slowly trace the expensive and rare timber. It had been cut from a tree that grew only on one of the planets his father had conquered in his youth. The wood was dense and heavy, naturally cultivated with a deep red color until it was stained with a preserving varnish. After the application of the varnish, the grains had turned black within the red wood. Lotor thought of it as a metaphor for the black blood that flowed through the veins of a Drule conqueror, and he found it to be a unique and fitting combination for someone who lived for the subjugation and annihilation of others.

Lying on the thick mattress, Lotor took a heavy breath. He had daydreamed for so long that Allura would be beside him, staring up at the dark beauty of the fabric and the frame with him. He imagined her petite form melting into the lush bedding, seeming small and lost within it while he spoke of his victories and presented her with the spoils of his invasions. He thought about what it would have been like to break her spirit and what kinds of persuasions he would have had to take in order to do so.

Growling now, he clenched his fist at the lost dreams. His visions had been cut short, and the thought of Allura bedding another man, especially the Voltron commander, brought forth the heated lava of hatred within him again. He knew he should have taken a blade to the commander's throat, stabbed him repeatedly…something – anything that would have guaranteed Lotor his death had been final.

Feeling the black hatred once more swell within him, Lotor knew that there was nothing now to settle his mood. He had allowed the failures of his mistakes to surface in his thoughts once again, and it didn't change his mood into anything better than what he had felt earlier in the morning.

He had awakened with a hunger for bloodlust and spent nearly two hours torturing a slave. The man he tormented had released blood curling screams of agony, and the stench of the man's burnt flesh and freshly spilled blood still hadn't been enough to satisfy Lotor's starvation for the death of Commander Keith. The man that he truly wanted to see dead had managed to escape somehow earlier in the week, and it had happened so fast that the Drule forces could find no sign of the ghostly presence that had swept the Voltron commander and his secret wife away.

When Lotor had found the prison guard, Graf, on the night of the commander's escape, he had realized that the Drule sentry was useless for information and was even more useless now that he had become a cripple. Lotor knew he could not have lame attendants running his prison, and it was against his nature to show mercy for the failure of allowing the Voltron commander and the former princess of Arus to escape. Because of such an unforgivable blunder and the fact that Graf was unable to supply any information that would be helpful to tracking down what had infiltrated the Doom dungeon, Lotor decided he didn't need Graf any longer. The Drule prince finished the job that the ghosts had started and took a blade to the guard's throat. It was a quicker death than what Lotor would have preferred to see on such a useless being, but it was not worth feeding and lodging someone who had failed him. Making Graf into an example, Lotor had the body dumped into the foraging pit so the beasts that were destined to become robeasts could have a decent meal. He was certain now that the rest of the prison guards would see to it that they provided better results in the future.

Clenching his fists tightly at the recent memories, Lotor suddenly sat up in the bed. The plush, red blankets that had been covering him shifted delicately against his bare body. Their cool and smooth texture could do nothing to ease the inflamed hatred that continued to flow through his veins.

Not even the slave girl he had sent away moments ago had been able to pacify him. Her smooth skin and shapely body usually took Lotor to a bliss far away from Doom, but he found his mind could not stay on the task, and the pleasure he craved became nothing more than a burden to achieve. He decided that the slave's talents weren't worth it if he couldn't be satisfied, and he didn't want to take his anger out on one of the few slaves he actually enjoyed.

Rubbing his eyes with the heals of his hands, Lotor now knew what he wanted, and his father postponing the attack for so long was just driving him further into insanity. Lotor wanted to see the Castle of Lions leveled, and he wanted every one of those Earthen meddlers murdered for taking away everything he was destined to have. Allura was never to belong to some Earthen space explorer who did not have a single cell of royalty in his blood. The fact that the commander had stolen Allura from him was reason alone to kill him. And now that commander had somehow managed to escape from the prison cell with Allura in tow…all while he was fighting off death.

Pushing himself out of the bed, Lotor reached for his clothing and began to quickly and curtly put it in place. He was appalled at the concept that all of the members of the Voltron Force, including Allura now, were nothing but peasants. Lotor didn't understand how the former princess could dare to treat them like royal knights. It was a despicable display of misrepresented respect. Those men should have been given beds in a hangar and been fed rations and water. They never should have been given so many rights to live as guests in the castle. It had inflated their egos, and they thought they were much more than the mere humans that they were.

Fully dressed now, Lotor decided that the time had come to have the confrontation with his father that he needed. It was time to demand that they destroy Arus and act as the Drule conquerors they were. The time for political games was over, and the rest of the galaxy needed to know that the Drule weren't going to roll over and get fat and lazy now that Voltron was dead. The galaxy was going to learn the hard way that there was no one to save them anymore and that the Drule were taking back what was theirs.

--- --- --- --- ---

Lance smiled as he moved about the hallways. Unlike the walls on Prince Dirin's flagship, _The Noble Sentinel_, that were plain and gray, the hallways on _Mercy's Heart_ were colored white. However, what made the corridors on _Mercy's Heart_ so unique was that they each had a different type of trim bordering along the top of them all. The particular hallway that Lance now walked within was bordered with small blue flowers, and they reminded him of the Forget-Me-Not plants that were common to Earth. The only difference was that the Forget-Me-Not flower from Earth had yellow centers, whereas the ones on the hallway trim contained pink ones.

Moving at a comfortably brisk pace, Lance moved to catch up with Katrine in the corridor that led between her office and the medical wing where Keith was recuperating. She was wearing the common green steriles, and her hair was tucked beneath a tightly fitted cap that was upon her head. The young doctor was in the midst of finalizing a couple electronic charts with one of the nurses, and Lance stopped before getting too close so he could allow them their privacy. Both the doctor and the nurse were conversing softly, and Katrine was using a stylus to make notes or change information on the charts as necessary.

Waiting patiently for Katrine to finish her duties, Lance finally felt as though he could breathe easier and that the weight on his shoulders had lifted considerably. The burdens that he carried for the last couple days had eased significantly, and he owed it all to Katrine for not being afraid to confront him when he needed it the most. She was the good, swift kick in the ass that he required, and he only wished his friends on the Voltron Force had been that daring. For a brief moment, Lance wondered if he would have to do the same for them, and he tried to imagine how exactly he would pull off something like that.

Shaking the thought away, Lance would deal with them when the time came. Right now, he was just grateful to have been given another chance to put right all that had gone wrong. When he and Katrine had been together the other night, Katrine had worked with Lance to understand Jenny's illness and how it had destroyed her the way it did. Lance found that for as much as he knew, there was a lot going on behind the scenes in her body that no one could predict. Unfortunately, Jenny's illness became a guessing game, and as the tests ruled out one problem, another would occur that wasn't consistent with the normal treatment. The experimental treatments they tried were useless as well because the sickness was evolving far too fast for anything to pinpoint it and destroy it.

Katrine also helped Lance sort through his feelings of anger, sadness, and frustration. She told him about her experiences with her husband's death and the fear it left within her with regards to how she would have to manage alone. She was angry with herself for falling in love with a pilot, a man she knew lived a dangerous life. She was angry with Nikkus for requesting the mission and that if he had allowed anyone else to take it, he would still be with her. She was sad because she had to watch Ella grow up without her father, and it broke her heart whenever Ella asked about why she didn't have a daddy. And, she was frustrated because horrible things should never happen to people who were good and kind, and why she was chosen to have her life altered so tragically continued to infuriate her.

Lance came to realize that he had been sad about Jenny's death and frustrated that he couldn't stop it. He was angry that he was only a kid at the time and no one wanted to give him the full details he needed to understand it. And, he felt the same about Keith. He was sad that his best friend was in a coma, and he was frustrated that he couldn't wake him. He was angry that Keith never told him about Allura, and he feared what other secrets might have been kept from him.

Lance knew that Katrine's emotions echoed his own, but she helped him understand that it would take time to find the acceptance he needed to endure. He saw that Katrine was living proof that someone could survive a tragedy and continue on, given time and support from the right people. Somehow Lance felt that Katrine was the right person to keep him balanced and provide the kind of support he needed when his emotions would stray into the darkness and regret.

Continuing to stand quietly a polite distance away, Lance casually landed his hands in his pockets while Katrine completed the tasks with the nurse. There was something he found admirable in her efficiency to click through the charts so easily. He watched her hazel eyes scan each of the electronic notes, and he could swear that he was able to see her eyes light up when she read certain patients' information. He could only hope that one of them was Keith's and that there was a good prognosis on the way.

After a few more moments, Katrine returned the electronic charts to the nurse and provided some final verbal instructions. Turning now to Lance, he saw that she had reached into one of the pockets on her steriles and pulled out a small datapad.

Lance held his breath wondering if it was finally good news about Keith.

"I'm sorry about the delay," she said, offering a slightly embarrassed smile.

Lance shrugged his shoulders casually. "Technically, you're working and I'm sort of on a vacation. That means I have time to wait."

Katrine moved the datapad to her left hand and used her right to tuck a stray lock of her hair back under her surgical cap. "You're being sweet, and that probably means you're here to tell me something or ask a favor of me."

Lance knew there was no flying under her radar, and that was something else he realized he had found admirable about her. Most of the women he had encountered could be played with a line or a wink of his eye. Katrine would be a real challenge for him, and she was someone he could enjoy and appreciate. For a brief moment, he wondered if Ella would be as sharp as her mother. The young girl had already showed signs of such intelligence in the short time he had spent with her.

"Okay, you got me," Lance said as he put his hands into the air, holding them before him as though surrendering. "I made special arrangements for when you come to Arus so that you can bring Ella. When I told Dr. Gorma about you and your skills, he was thrilled to meet another doctor, especially one with your background and training."

Katrine looked down to the datapad in her hands and felt her smile fall off her face. She knew that Lance would be leaving on the first transport out tomorrow morning to return to Arus with Keith and Allura. He had begged her to go with them the other night, and at that time, Katrine had told him that she was honored but she would have to see if arrangements could me made in her schedule and with Ella. She never thought he would have been able to pull the necessary strings to get it arranged with his contacts on Arus, especially not so quickly.

"What's wrong?" Lance asked as his hands came to his sides, and he suddenly felt the lightheartedness around her abruptly change. After a moment, he saw in her eyes the answer. His voice was a statement of fact and not a question. "You changed your mind and you're not coming with us."

Looking up again, Katrine started, "I wanted to. I truly considered it, but I just can't. I never meant to lead you falsely…" She stopped to take a breath and suddenly changed the topic. Her fingers gripped the datapad as she tried to find the strength to continue. After a brief moment, she told him, "I've compiled everything your doctor needs in this datapad that I can send with you. I've had a tutorial created for all the equipment, and there's a direct link to me so that in the event of any crisis, I can do my best to walk your doctor through it."

Lance shook his head, suddenly confused. This was not the Katrine he met the other night and kissed. He didn't understand what would cause her to so quickly change her mind.

Sadly, he asked, "Why?"

Katrine felt herself become unusually weak while she looked into his brown eyes. The moment they shared the other evening was very real and more than she could have ever hoped to know with him. Lance was a man she would have no problem finding attachment with, and she could see their attraction growing into something much more. However, her reality involved factors that were more than just a woman having a chanced encounter with a man she had recently met.

Her voice was persuasive despite the weakness she felt. "Arus is a war-torn planet under the threat of constant attack and potential annihilation. As a responsible mother, how could I possibly want to risk Ella's life in that kind of environment? She already lost her father. I couldn't allow her to lose her mother, too. And, heaven help the Drule if anything ever happened to her. I know I already risked too much by insisting that all the innocent lives on _Mercy's Heart_ make the trip to Arus so that Keith can have that much more time in his stable condition. But, I can see what he means to you, and I truly believe that Keith will recover."

Lance sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets. "I'm grateful that you put Keith before everyone else here, but you're already in the war zone. Just by being in the Denubian Galaxy, you've put _Mercy's Heart_ and Ella at risk. So, the only question I have is: are you trying to protect Ella or are you trying to protect yourself, instead?"

Katrine brought her eyes to his, not sure exactly how to respond. As much as she could read his emotions, he did the same for her. He saw that she feared growing too close to another man, especially a pilot, and especially a pilot in a hot war zone. She spoke a truth, even if it wasn't the one he wanted to hear. "I want to keep my daughter safe."

Lance closed his eyes and fought against wanting to embrace her again. He could still feel the touch of her lips and the intensity they shared in that kiss. There was a connection with her he hadn't ever known before, and it was so different than the casual and quick relationships he had always experienced.

Opening his eyes, he studied her hazel irises. "You're afraid, and I understand. I don't like the idea of you and Ella mixed up in a battle that doesn't concern you, but you got involved when we showed up on your doorstep with my dying friend in tow. The Drule know that the Finlonite military is our ally, and don't think you're safe just because you're on a civilian medical ship. They would take all of you and enslave you or worse just because you helped Arus."

Katrine felt her throat tighten as she realized that there was no denying Lance's truthful words. The leader of her planet chose this alliance, and in doing so, Prince Dirin had to know that he was putting an entire society at risk. She wondered if she and Ella would ever be safe anywhere.

Lance realized that his words came out a bit scarier and harsher than he had intended. He just wanted Katrine to know that she had to watch her back now, regardless of where she and Ella chose to be. She was a citizen of Finlon, and the Drule didn't need more than that to exact revenge.

In an instant, his hands were freed from his pockets, and he had brushed his fingers over her cheeks, his palms holding her face gently. He then leaned his forehead onto hers. "I'm sorry."

Katrine took a heavy breath, silently savoring Lance's hands on her face. The sliver of air between their lips was a temptation she fought against. It would be so easy to just close her eyes and kiss him again. She could see in his eyes that he struggled with the same desire.

"Please reconsider," he whispered.

Her words were soft and truthful. "I lost Nikkus when I needed him the most. I just can't live through that again."

Lance sighed and closed his eyes. She had considered him in her future already, and he had to admit that he already had images of them together, too. Before he fell asleep last night, he imagined giving Ella piggyback rides around the castle while Nanny yelled at him about some rule of safety or another. He could hear echoes of Katrine's laughter and imagine her snuggled beside him deep in the night. It was more than he ever had with any other woman, and the more he tried to stop the fantasies, the more they filled his mind.

Lance opened his eyes and watched the daydreams he had last night dissolve around him, and he knew there was nothing he could do now to change her mind. "I wish I could promise I'll be safe and always come back to you."

"But, you can't, Lance," she breathed. "You're a pilot, and it's where you belong. I'm not going to ask you to change that."

Lance sighed softly. She really did know him far too well, and she was the only woman who ever could read him so accurately. For having barely known her, his heart felt an ache he had never experienced, and he couldn't bring himself to let her go.

"Lance," she said softly, coming up with the only pathetic excuse that she could, "I have to finish my rounds."

Feeling defeated, he pulled his hands from her and stepped back. He kept his eyes low, his shoulders naturally slumping at what he knew was their final goodbye.

"It's a shame Keith will never know who healed him." Lance turned his back to her but gently threw his words over his shoulder. "Be safe, Katrine, and take good care of Ella. She's going to be one hell of a woman when she grows up."

Katrine watched a blurred vision of Lance walk down the hallway. She felt the painful tightness in her throat and fought to take a breath. Hurrying, she escaped into the door of her office and locked it behind her. She fell into her chair behind the desk as she put the datapad on the tabletop. Her head fell into her hands, and she took a deep breath, trying to force the ache of tears from coming. She could not allow herself to feel this strongly for someone she barely knew and had only recently met.

However, she could not stop the confusion. She felt distraught and lost. She liked Lance, honestly and truly liked him. She wanted to enjoy his sense of humor, his compassion, his touch, and whatever else a closeness between them would bring. She reminded herself that she barely knew him, but she knew there was no denying the fact that her heart had known him her entire life.

Taking a shaky breath, Katrine felt as though her stomach had been kicked, and her chest had been covered by a weight she couldn't move. She thought of Ella and their comfortable existence, the respect of her staff, the small apartment she had been in for years, the friends she shared, her family still living on Finlon, and her brother with his sudden appearances. She wondered if she could ever give all that up on a whim, taking a chance on a man with which she had spent one evening's conversation.

She pulled her hands away from her face and looked at the holographs on her desk, the portraits of the people she cared about most. Ella was in three different frames, all taken at different times in her young life. One of the portraits was taken shortly after she was born, and her tiny body was lost within the swaddling blanket. Another portrait was when she was just over a year old. The yellow dress she wore enhanced the blonde highlights in her hair. The last hologram was taken just a couple weeks ago, and Katrine could not deny how Ella was her father's daughter. She had inherited his cheekbones and chin, and even his stubborn defiance at times.

Looking at the hologram that sat opposite of Ella, Katrine studied the portrait of her brother, Tiven. He was wearing the blue dress uniform of military medic. A green cross was embroidered on the left side of his chest, and accompanying green stripes extended down both his sleeves and his pant legs. The portrait had been taken on his graduation from the academy, after he had earned his rank and received all his accreditations to become a full-fledged medic. At that time, Katrine didn't understand why he wanted to be in the military when he could do so much as a civilian, but at some point it occurred to her that he was meant to help the soldiers and she was meant to help the civilians. It was a two-front battle they fought together, one patient at a time.

Katrine turned her eyes from Tiven's portrait to the datapad on her desk, and it finally occurred to her that Lance had never taken the device from her with all the information the Arusian doctor would need.

Looking back to Tiven's portrait, Katrine thought of Keith and how he was probably the only patient that had ever brought Katrine and Tiven together for the same purpose. They lived in separate worlds for the most part, but Keith was the one being who united a military medic to a civilian surgeon.

As she continued to reflect on the Voltron Force, Katrine understood the bond that Keith had with Lance and how they were brothers – siblings – not at all the same as Tiven and Katrine, but very similar. Eyes passing over all the objects on her desk a final time, Katrine couldn't help but wonder if she would ever see Lance again. As soon as the question came, she already knew the answer and that she never would have the opportunity to cross paths with him in the future.

Rubbing her forehead with her fingertips, Katrine released a soft sigh, as she finally understood why there was a reason that Fedmar medical schools taught their doctors to avoid the patients' loved ones. In the past she had broken that rule because she was too compassionate. However, this time breaking that rule had hurt the most. She tried to ignore it and deny it, but it was like a voice plaguing her and haunting her. Hands taking the datapad again, she couldn't stop the truth that one day she would love Lance.


	28. Chapter 28

_Author's Notes_: I just wanted to express my heartfelt thanks and gratitude for everyone who has been with me from the beginning and all the newcomers who have fallen into this tale as well. Many of you have done a tremendous job of encouraging me, and when I sometimes think the story is in a block with no escape, the characters show me the way out. And, I know they do so because of you. I am merely the instrument they use to have their tales told.

As always…

I hope I continue to do justice to the characters and the series of _Voltron_, and I ask for no flames, please. However, I will accept constructive criticism in order to develop further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I own nothing of WEP or Voltron, but my imagination lays claim to the origin story that I have created for Voltron. Also, the citizens of Fedmar and their respective leader are mine. In short, I make no money, and I only write about what I enjoy.

Chapter 28 – Homecoming

Coran passed through the mechanics bay and continued to be disheartened with how the Lions had not moved from their resting positions. From the moment they had been brought in to the oversized chamber, no one had been able to breathe life back into them. With every passing day, the sense of hopelessness grew like a festering disease amongst the palace staff as well as the citizens who still maintained their shelter in the Castle of Lions. They all knew that with Voltron still out of commission, the Drule could return and attack with no resistance, finishing what they had started a week ago.

It all made for a tense and frightening mixture, the kind that caused accusations to be quick and actions even quicker but with volatile results. Coran had intervened with at least three arguments and two fistfights amongst the scared citizens. He had begun to think that the Drule had left them all for dead on purpose so that they would extinguish themselves and it would save Doom from wasting their time and their firepower.

As music echoed loudly once again from a small but powerful player, Coran closed his eyes for a brief moment and was transported back to a time not more than a couple weeks ago. The difference this time was that the music wasn't an upbeat song full of lyrics longing for a place considered home. This time the music was deeply laden with drums and bass. The male vocalist's voice was gravely but hypnotic, and he sang dark lyrics that were full of Earthen expletives about facing an enemy with no regrets and no holding back. It sounded more like a battle cry than an actual song, despite the usage of hard, purposeful instrumentation.

Sighing sadly, Coran couldn't hold it against Hunk. The poor man had been consumed by Keith's tragic injuries. From the few observations that Hunk and Pidge were able to supply, Coran knew to expect a shelled-out body returning today. He knew that Keith may be alive medically, but without any sense of consciousness or awakening within the body's soul, they would just be keeping watch over his body hoping for a miracle to revive him.

Opening his eyes now, Coran moved amidst the Lions. He would not complain about the improper lyrics or the discomfort of the loudness this so-called music contained. The Voltron Force was grieving, and not everyone sat in a dark corner weeping helplessly.

Coran recalled that as soon as Hunk and Pidge had returned to Arus, they almost immediately secluded themselves to the mechanics bay, their place of solitude and contentment and began the disheartening task of trying to repair the Lions.

Within two days, they had managed to get the Lions looking like brand new. With the exception of some paint and dents amidst the metal beasts, the Lions required no more repairs. They just couldn't understand now how or why the Lions remained in a coma.

Coran briefly wondered if Keith's connection to Voltron had been the sole cause for both of them remaining unconscious and he couldn't help the notion of silliness that if they were reunited both would magically awaken. But, he pushed the thought aside because that was the kind of drivel written for children's stories. There was something far more intricate involving the Lions, and a mere human being could not possibly be the only reason that prevented Voltron from awakening. Keith's situation was plainly a case of the human body fighting to repair itself, and if the body wasn't capable of doing so, it would simply give in to the injuries it had sustained.

_It will be a sad reunion, I fear_, the disembodied voice of King Alfor said to Coran. _My daughter and her husband return, but I know they will both be broken in different ways._

Coran opened his eyes and breathed sharply. He glanced quickly around him but neither Hunk nor Pidge paid him any mind. Coran figured that with the music coming across so loudly, Hunk and Pidge would never hear him babbling to empty air anyway. The two Voltron pilots were enraptured with another series of tests on the Red Lion, and Coran knew that once everything came back with normal results yet again, Hunk and Pidge would next venture onto the Blue Lion. The near-obsessive need they had to test every last gear and wire had become a fatiguing dance for them. They daily tested each Lion for every imaginable mechanical failure and every test came back without a problem. Coran had hoped just once they would find something wrong, even a part as small as a broken bolt so that they had the accomplishment of fixing something.

"Yes, your highness," Coran finally replied to Alfor. "They should be arriving momentarily."

_You have my permission to discuss everything with Allura_, Alfor's voice continued. _She will need you and your assurance. Keep Nanny unaware for now. I want Allura to handle her servant in her own way and in her own time. Just be prepared to stand beside my daughter when that confrontation occurs._

"As you wish," Coran nodded. After a moment, the music went silent, and the mechanic's bay suddenly seemed dead. A soft buzzing was the only sound now as a generator continued to keep the room lit and cycle the air through.

The advisor reached down into the pocket of his long coat and brought forth a small communications device. As he moved to click it to an open communication, Hunk appeared before Coran with Pidge next to him. It was the first time that Coran realized just how different in size the two men were. They both seemed so small compared to the challenge that faced them, despite their physical differences.

Hunk wiped his hands on a rag, removing the last remnants of grease. He didn't bother with pleasantries, and his stony expression continued to conceal his underlying grief. "They're back aren't they?"

Coran nodded his head briefly and shut down the beeping device. He returned it to his coat. "Would you like to accompany them from the landing pad or wait until they are settled in?"

Hunk shook his head. "I've got more tests to run. I'll check in with them later."

Pidge watched his friend turn away and touch the button that brought forth the despairingly powerful music. As the sounds of Hunk's private concert echoed again throughout the mechanic's chamber, Pidge looked to Coran. "Hunk just needs time."

Coran smiled without judgment. He understood Hunk's internal struggles. The advisor had been fighting within himself every day for so many years and for so many losses of his own. He truly hoped he would not be adding Keith to the list of friends and family that he had lost throughout the years.

"Be patient with him, Pidge," Coran said. "He must grieve before he can heal, and I know that if Keith awakens, Hunk will come to terms with it a lot sooner."

"Thanks," Pidge smiled sadly. "I should probably keep Hunk company. His patience has been thin lately."

Coran nodded. "I will have you both summoned when the dinner meal is ready. It would do you both good to join us."

"Will do," Pidge saluted lightly and then spun to catch up with Hunk, who was now diagnosing the Blue Lion for the second time today.

Coran moved out of the chamber and began his long walk to the landing platform. He thought about how he would talk to Allura and discuss the secrets she had kept as well as the ones he kept for her through Alfor's instructions. The poor girl had finally found her happiness, and it was short-lived, nearly destroyed before it had time to be fully appreciated. He hoped she would not think of him as an enemy for his covert knowledge of her affair but that she would see he could be confided within and trusted.

--- --- --- --- ---

"A castle? I'm really going to be in a castle?"

Lance couldn't help the stupid grin that covered his face and watched Ella practically bouncing about in the seat with her back to him. He saw her brown curls spring about her head looking like a handful of wildly soft coils. Her tiny hands were plastered to the window, leaving small fingerprints to mark every last entity that she had seen through the clear pane during their flight from _Mercy's Heart_. Her face was now glued just as tightly, and a nose print was added to the abstract canvas of her fingerprints. Lance smirked now, glad that he wasn't part of the window washing crew of Dirin's fleet.

"The castle doesn't look like your storybooks…" he tried to explain to the young girl.

"It doesn't matter. Momma never lets me go anywhere," she interrupted with a giggle. "But, you're taking me to a castle."

Lance crossed his arms over his chest and continued the smile as he watched Ella. Allura had insisted on staying in the small cabin behind them with Keith and Katrine, and it was the perfect opening that would give Lance the opportunity to spend a little time with Ella one-on-one so that he could try to learn more about this curious child.

"Well, your Momma just wants to protect you," Lance replied after a moment. The most conversation they had so far was that a four-year-old couldn't get past the idea of being in a castle with a princess full of pretty dresses and a fancy ballroom that held big parties for princes to come. Rubbing his temples at the girl's innocence, he didn't have the heart to tell her how many princes they sent away and that the princess who ruled over Arus had taken an honorable soldier by her side. If Ella was maybe a few years older, she might see the beauty in that as opposed to the Prince Charming stories most girls are told.

Ella pulled her face away from the window for a moment to look at Lance. "Uncle Tiven says that."

Lance took a heavy breath hiding the fact that he knew Tiven used the codename of Shepherd while serving within one of Dirin's special operations teams called Shadow Squad. Shepherd/Tiven was the one who brought Keith to Dr. Katrine, and he was Ella's uncle. It still boggled his mind at times that Shepherd's own sister was so completely unaware of who he truly was and what he actually did.

Pushing past that still-new realization about Tiven and Shepherd, Lance told Ella, "Your uncle is a smart man, then."

"Momma says that, too," she said quickly and then turned back to the window. The clouds had finally broken up around them, and the castle was coming into view in the distance. That made Ella jump once again in the seat. Her voice grew an octave in pitch, and she squealed like the four-year-old she was. "I see it! I see it!"

_Am I ready for this?_ Lance thought silently. He realized that he would not only have to face Hunk and Pidge and have to help them cope through their sense of betrayal, but he would now be taking on the responsibilities of trying to impress a child. Lance had decided at some point in the last couple hours that he was going to protect Ella like his own and do his best to convince Katrine that he was ready for a mature relationship.

Thinking about the ambitious agenda he had set forth before him, Lance decided that right now Ella would be much easier to handle and that if he could get things to work out with Katrine, maybe being a surrogate father might not be so bad. He knew it was time to stop being the flirtatious flyboy and concentrate on someone who understood him, the real him.

"Keith made it through the atmospheric turbulence without any incident, and Princess Allura requested a few minutes alone with him," Katrine explained, her words breaking Lance's silent deliberations.

He watched as she sat beside him and took Ella on her lap, and he couldn't help the warmth that rose in his chest, that comfort of Katrine actually being with him.

Lance reached over and took Katrine's hand in his, her hand instantly responding to his touch by returning the grasp.

"Thank you," Lance said, grateful that she was taking care of Keith with such devotion and even more grateful that she had chosen to accompany them to Arus.

The doctor brought her hazel eyes to his brown irises and smiled warily. She still wasn't sure how her staff had convinced her to take a "vacation" and spend time on a war-torn planet. She was certain that she would be mending the wounded more than relaxing, but she couldn't deny what her intuition kept telling her about Lance.

Leaning forward to give Ella a kiss on the top of her head, Katrine felt her instinctively pull her daughter closer against her. She couldn't bear the thought of leaving Ella with anyone for an undisclosed amount of time. They had never been apart for longer than a day or two, and Katrine knew it was selfish of her to bring Ella to Arus. But, it would have devastated her to leave her daughter alone with family Ella barely knew or with friends that Ella had only met a handful of times.

Glancing at Lance now, Katrine silently thought about the terms that were negotiated on her behalf. Apparently, Princess Allura was insistent that the doctor who had saved Keith's life should follow through with him, regardless of the outcome of what happens to him. For as kind-hearted and gentle as the young monarch was, when it came to Keith, she was a protective and shrewd woman. Princess Allura had come to Katrine with a proposed idea that was desperate yet practical. When Katrine had finally agreed to the princess' plan, it had just needed Prince Dirin's approval to be implemented, and the ruler of Finlon had been unable to find any objections in the idea.

Katrine spoke softly, "Remember, Prince Dirin granted me a special crew on standby at all times. The first moment it gets too dangerous for us, we pull out."

Lance nodded with understanding. He would never be able to thank Allura enough for being adamant about Katrine's involvement with Keith's health. Luckily for Lance, Dirin agreed to the idea. Finlon's military had spared a special ops team that operated under the code name "Maverick Squad." Where Shadow Squad was specialized with infiltration and extraction, Maverick's specialty was extracting in situations of chaos and battle. Their orders were simple: If the Drule came in too hot and heavy, they would bail out Katrine and Ella in a moment's notice on a cloaked ship. Then, they were to rendezvous at a covert set of coordinates where they would await further instructions from Dirin's fleet.

"Oh, Momma," Ella said sadly, interrupting Lance's recollections, "It's all broken."

Lance jerked his head toward the window and felt his heart sink. As they came in for the landing, he saw the playground they had spent weeks building was nothing more than broken toys. It looked like an angry child had a temper tantrum, and Lance knew exactly which angry child would wreak such destruction and havoc. Lance was relieved to see, though, that the castle defenses had held strongly and the damage to the Castle of Lions was minimal in comparison. He knew that after Voltron had been defeated and Allura and Keith became Lotor's captives, the Drule prince had pulled back the attack. Lotor had made sure he targeted what he knew would break the Arusian's spirits most – the places where the people of Arus would feel normal.

Tightening his fingers around Katrine's, Lance silently offered reassurance, but his words were for Ella. "We're going to fix all that, and you'll be riding on those toys in no time."

--- --- --- --- ---

Allura brushed her fingers over Keith's forehead and pushed a thick lock of his dark hair away from his right eyebrow. She traced the outline of his face near his jaw line, feeling a thin line of stubble forming. She couldn't remember when the nursing staff had last shaved him, and she wasn't certain she could do such a clean job. She had never received any instructions from the nurses on _Mercy's Heart_, but she didn't ask about it either. Then it occurred to her that she would probably never have that moment of intimacy anyway. Nanny would jump right in and take care of Keith's physical appearance, finding some excuse why Allura shouldn't be worrying about it when her people needed her guidance, and she wondered at what point she would have the strength to drop the bombshell on Nanny about her marriage and her dismissal from the throne.

Feeling a small tug at the corners of her lips, Allura pushed Nanny from her thoughts and briefly wondered how Keith would look with a beard or moustache anyway. She had tried to picture the dark hair on his face being as wild as the locks upon his head, and she unsuccessfully suppressed the involuntary giggle that worked free at the image in her mind.

After a moment, she realized that Keith would never allow himself to grow more than a day's worth of stubble, and it was probably due to some military regulation he had instilled within him while in the academy. Keith strived to be the perfect soldier even down to the finest detail, and it broke her heart sometimes how he strived for a perfection he could not obtain. She just never understood how he could be so precise in a militaristic sense, but he allowed his hair to remain long and against regulations.

Smiling again, she mused that it was probably his one rebellious strike against him. Still, she would never complain about his hair or the length of it. She had admired the dark locks from the moment she saw him, and even Nanny and Coran's useless attempts to make him tie it back never did him any justice. It was the wildness within his spirit that she saw when she looked at that mass of jet-black hair. He was so precise and refined in every other way that she had presumed his long hair was his one way to be free.

Speaking softly in the small room, Allura told him, "You're almost home."

She took his hand now and brought it to her lips kissing his fingertips. Then, she rested it back on the bed and kept her fingers around his.

"Do you remember when we first met?" she asked to his unconscious body, smiling in her memories.

"You stood at the bottom of the stairs in the old castle, the structure that remained standing just by sheer will. I watched you from a dark corner at the top of those stone stairs while Coran spoke with you, and I was drawn to you instantly." She stopped and found herself giggling softly. "That sounds so silly."

After a moment, she drew a quiet breath and studied his face. The bruises had faded considerably, and only a little minor swelling remained on his cheeks. A week's worth of medicines and rest had begun to make him look more normal and less like the abused man he had been a week ago. She was certain that if he opened his eyes, he would look perfect, and she longed to see his dark irises sparkling with life once again.

"I thought you were striking," she murmured, continuing to reminiscence about their first meeting. She mused that if either of them had known then what they would endure together and what lie ahead for them, that meeting might have gone quite differently. "Your eyes were so dark and soft, and I could see your kindness and your strength shine in them. I could see that you didn't want to hurt Coran or the people around you and yet you wanted to protect your friends, your comrades.

"When I finally came out of the shadows and stood atop those steps, I swore that time had stopped. The softness in your eyes when you looked at me made me breathless, and I feared with every step I took down those steps that I would fall in my rush to meet you. I tried to hide my trembling fingers when you took my hand and bowed before me, but then I felt your fingers shaking, too."

Again Allura laughed softly. "You'll deny that until you die, won't you? You'll never admit that the strong and assured commander trembled before a princess."

Touching her fingers to his cheek with her free hand, she shook her head. "But you are strong, so very strong. You kept me alive in that dungeon – you, Keith. The man who trembled when we first touched was the same man who saw that I didn't crumble even though I was already broken inside."

Feeling her fingers tightening around his hand stronger, Allura pushed down the lump in her throat. "And here I am sitting beside you, not as your princess, not as a sovereign who expects you to bow before me. I sit beside you as your wife, your partner, and on that fateful day when we met and you made my heart flutter did I ever think I would be so honored to obtain the title of your 'wife.'"

Swallowing hard, she smiled once again for a brief moment. "You know that we have to tell Coran now, don't you? The rest of the Voltron Force knows, and it hurt them deeply that we didn't include them in our lives. We failed them as friends and teammates, and now we must make amends, but I can't do that alone. I need you for that. We have to remain together and united and show them that our love is right. If you die, everything we were was all for nothing, and they will have justification of their anger and betrayed feelings."

After a moment, Allura heard the door open behind her.

"I'm sorry, Highness," Katrine said. "You can stay, but I need to watch the equipment and Keith's reactions to them again as we land."

Allura swallowed down her emotions and pushed them away for now. Katrine had actually chosen a good time to return to the medical cabin as it would provide Allura the few minutes she needed to get her thoughts and feelings sorted before having to face Coran and Nanny. She feared that the moment she saw her father's advisor, she would break down as though she was the little girl that Coran had always seen her, and she needed to be strong to show him that her love for Keith was not a rash mistake.

--- --- --- --- ---

_Author's Additional Notes_: Once again, Hunk has chosen a selection from the album _IV_ by Godsmack. The song playing in the repair bay was Godsmack's "The Enemy."


	29. Chapter 29

_Author's Notes_: Thanks so much for the patience and the encouragement! Chapter 29 came to me with the smallest snippet, but with time, it grew into a chapter I am glad to finally see.

As always…

I hope I continue to do justice to the characters and the series of _Voltron_, and I ask for no flames, please. However, I will accept constructive criticism in order to develop further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I own nothing of WEP or Voltron, but my imagination lays claim to the origin story that I have created for Voltron. Also, the citizens of Fedmar and their respective leader are mine. In short, I make no money, and I only write about what I enjoy.

Chapter 29 – Advent of the Soul

Allura steadied herself on the bench next to Keith's traveling bed and settled comfortably close to him but far enough out of Katrine's reach so that she would not be a hindrance to the doctor. Keith remained connected to a couple of standard medical machines that monitored his heart and pumped his body with necessary nutrients. The ventilator was removed just yesterday, after Keith started breathing more regularly on his own. He continued to have a thin set of tubes connected to his nostrils, however, to ensure that enough oxygen was filtering into his lungs and getting to his brain.

Behind the small headboard on the bed was the drapery of wires that were attached to the machines controlling Keith's functions. Earlier, Allura had followed the pathway that the wires made from Keith's body and found they were connected to two computer monitors. Each of the monitors was split into multiple screens to display the information that Katrine needed to assess Keith's current condition.

Allura had tried to decipher the information on the monitors more than once in her time alone with Keith, but the multi-colored graphs and findings made no sense to her. The best she could understand was the chart that showed his blood pressure was remaining steady in the normal range.

Allura also found that her admiration for Katrine had increased considerably during the journey back to Arus because the doctor didn't just trust the medical equipment exclusively. She continued to keep a separate chart attached to Keith's bed that she used to write down by hand the results that the monitors had provided. On top of that, she manually checked for pulse rates, heartbeat, and blood pressure at regular intervals just to compare it to the equipment. Allura found it a relief to see another medical practitioner as thorough as Dr. Gorma, and she sensed that they would establish a good rapport quickly in order to be certain Keith receives the best treatment they both could provide.

The doctor's hazel eyes were once again monitoring vital signs on the computer screen, and she was comparing it to the manual readings she had taken only minutes ago as though looking for anything that might not be consistent in his condition.

Feeling the floor vibrating as the transport ship gently angled in toward the landing platform, Allura once again looked to the colorful charts and graphs on the monitors, but there was still nothing she could comprehend. Despite that, she found it was something to do while the sound of the engines revealed that the transport was now hovering in place as though the pilot was awaiting the final directive from the grounds crew for the approval to land.

Reaching over to take Keith's hand, Allura took a quiet breath, thinking of his strength and using his touch to bring forth her own. She knew this was the final moment before she would return to her home, but not her life. She had no reason to apologize for her actions, but she had every reason to defend them. She was certain that Nanny would do much more than bend her over her knee and give her the juvenile punishment of a spanking the moment Allura confesses her decisions. She could hear Nanny in a fit about Allura having given up her birthright for some Earthen pilot who bore no royal blood and that everything her father had fought for was now destroyed in a rash and childish decision born entirely of her own selfishness.

Coran, on the other hand, would be more disappointed than angry. He was never so openly verbal or physical with his anger, but his silence could be just as destructive. Allura feared that he would see her as nothing more than a failure and that all the years he spent with her trying to groom her into an ambassador were now for naught.

Looking to Keith's face again, Allura fought against those negative concerns and feelings. Her own emotions were the demons that would break her into a child and destroy her resolve so that her surrogate parents would easily beat her down. She had to be more than strong now. She needed to be brave and sure. The fight she was preparing to undertake was about her worth as a woman, not a princess and not a pilot. She had made a choice with her life, and she needed to be very clear with Coran and Nanny that no one had the right to deny her that.

Entangling her fingers into Keith's, Allura knew without a doubt that what she had done with her life and whom she had chosen to take part in it was right. This man she married had a way of bringing forth her warmth and her kindness in a way she never had been allowed to know before. In ways she would never understand and dared not to understand, he also was capable of releasing her fire and her passion. In their moments alone, when she could be as unbridled as she needed, he gave her the freedom to be who she truly was and not just the shy princess that had been threatened into humbleness for most of her life. In Keith's arms, she found herself as the woman that she needed to be, and when they were alone, she had no questions or doubts – only clarity.

A wave of peace and serenity came over Allura while she thought back to the lucidity in those quiet moments alone with her husband. She could remember that there were times it felt like the war with the Drule no longer existed, and it was nothing more than some horrible nightmare.

As her thoughts drifted back to their heartfelt unity vows, the simple but truthful words that had bonded them beyond mere teammates, everything about her relationship with Keith fell back into place again.

Smiling silently while she envisioned herself as being strong and certain, Allura let her eyes continue to scan over Keith's face. Studying his dark hair and handsome features, Allura caught a sudden movement. Looking closely, she watched as Keith's eyes fluttered open for a brief second and then closed again just as quickly. She gasped quietly and felt her heart leap wondering if what she saw could have been possible or if it was simply her imagination portraying what she wanted to see.

Katrine instantly turned to one of the monitors, tapping on keys connected to a keyboard, and Allura brought her eyes up to find out why the doctor seemed so startled.

"Did you see it, too?" Allura asked softly, aware that the monitor continued to show nothing that made sense to her. It was all arcing lines and horizontal spikes that seemed to be in an endless looping pattern.

"There was brain activity, and his eyes did blink," Katrine said calmly but with reassurance. "He had a second and a half's worth of consciousness."

Before Allura could respond to the new findings, she felt the transport jolt gently, signaling that they had landed intact and safely. Her heart began pounding as she felt her strength unraveling in a new way. She could not leave Keith's side now, and she knew that there would be a small entourage of parental guardians and castle staff awaiting their chance to welcome home the final members of the Voltron Force. Allura feared that they would be bombarded by their kind intentions, and they would be blockaded by the overly protective and concerned intentions of her guardians. Both of those would delay Keith the necessary privacy he required, especially in this most desperate moment as he began to show signs of life once again.

Katrine turned from the machine for a couple seconds and shook her head as though trying to devise her own plan. "We can't move him just yet. If he's trying to awaken, and we move him too much, we risk undoing his progress."

At that Allura grasped Keith's hand even tighter, refusing to relinquish her hold. "Keith, can you hear me? Please show us another sign that you're there."

"Two point seven. Spikes here and there. This one's interesting," Katrine said softly as she continued to compare the monitors and their movements to her scribbling of notes on the chart in her arm. She took the pen and jotted down even more data, suddenly seeming more like a mad mathematician than a skilled doctor. After a moment, Katrine brought her hazel eyes up from her notes and glanced at Allura. "Keep talking to him. Keith is listening to your voice in the way a newborn searches out the voice of its mother. Every time you say something, he's showing signs of recognition."

Allura took a deep breath and tightened her grasp on Keith's hand desperately. If she had to reveal all that they endured in front of Katrine in order to awaken him, then she was willing now to take that chance. Bringing Keith back from the abyss of his coma was more important than a title or a birthright. She had to save the man she loved, just as he had saved her.

"You are not alone, Keith," Allura told him, deciding to start vaguely for now. If the situation required it, then she would take a more detailed approach and reveal what she felt needed to be told in order to guide Keith back to his consciousness. "I'm here beside you, where I belong. I'm going to help you find your way back to us, but you have to listen to me. Don't turn away from my voice."

Katrine again glanced between her scribblings and the data on monitors. Her voice remained soft, more of a background sound that would not interfere in Keith's slowly returning consciousness. "It's working. He's up to five-point-two seconds."

Allura began talking about the playground they had built in her garden, describing the different rides for the children that they had all made together.

After a number of minutes had passed, Lance stepped into the small med-bay. His voice was concerned, not certain if he would be walking into his friend's last moments. "What's wrong?"

Allura and Katrine turned to Lance, but Katrine answered first, keep her voice low, "Keith is trying to wake up. Princess Allura started talking him through the waking process."

"He blinked, Lance," Allura offered.

A dumbfounded look crossed over Lance's face, and he was no longer concerned if the transport pilot was growing impatient or taking the delay in stride. Lance had seen pilots come across both ways, and he had to admit that he was more of the impatient kind. He preferred to keep moving rather than sit around a hangar waiting for others to decide for him what to do.

Katrine kept her eyes on Lance and couldn't help the smile that found its way to her lips. She found his display of vulnerability for his friend's life to be an attractive demonstration of charm and innocence. Trying to remain professional and knowing she was failing miserably with the blush on her cheeks, Katrine explained, "Keith's consciousness is growing in longer intervals, but if there is an interruption, we could lose the progress."

At that, Allura shook her head. "Nanny and Coran won't give us peace once we exit the transport."

Suddenly, the doctor seemed lost and her smile faded. "We can't risk that, and I can't walk away from Keith right now. I've seen awakenings take as short as a few minutes or as long as a couple hours. Ella…"

Lance moved to Katrine and kissed her lips softly, stopping her in the midst of her worries. After a few long seconds, he gently pulled back but didn't step away yet. "Ella and I can clear a pathway for you, but I need your permission to let her do so. Nanny and Coran are the parental figures who will try to interrupt your progress as you get off the transport, and they will try to persuade Allura from staying with Keith, but you need to stick to your guns and stay headstrong. You and Allura have to get Keith to the medical wing and to Dr. Gorma. I'll do what I can and have Ella help me keep those guardians at a distance. Once Keith is stable again, contact me."

Katrine nodded. "As long as it's not dangerous, Ella will probably enjoy whatever stunt you plan to pull. She would do anything to feel like she's part of the Voltron Force."

"Momma?" Ella asked as she peered around the doorframe.

"You need to stay with Lance," Katrine said to her daughter. "I have to help Keith get better."

Lance turned and stepped away from Katrine. He took the young girl's hand in his, leading her back to the general passenger area of the transport.

Katrine listened for a few moments to the voices on the other side of the med-bay, the sounds of Lance's voice growing softer as he moved further away with her daughter. "How would you like to see the Lions up close and personal?"

Ella's excited joy echoed throughout the other compartment as she began rambling about Voltron, asking random questions and spouting facts that Katrine was certain Lance knew from personal experiences. Concentrating again on her patient, Katrine saw Keith's eyes open for a long couple seconds before closing again.

Allura had brought her attention now back to the Voltron commander, and she spoke to him about something called Butterfly Lillies, describing them in vivid detail. Katrine caught herself staring at the couple before her for a moment too long as she suddenly realized that there was an intimate closeness between them, but she knew it was not her place to ask about it. Her thoughts were now elsewhere as she, herself, had known that kind of relationship once in her life, too, and thinking about Lance, she found herself hoping she would know what it was once again.

--- --- --- --- ---

Lance had Ella following him closely as they returned to the passenger area, and he couldn't help smiling as she asked him if it was true that the Red Lion can sleep in fire and not be burned.

"Well," he started as he brought them toward the compartment that contained their baggage, "Every Lion has a connection with nature. The Red Lion is connected to fire and because of that it is protected from it."

Ella seemed to be contemplating and thinking about that for a long moment. "So the Blue Lion can't drown in water?"

Her question made Lance laugh softly as he never quite thought about it in such a manner before. "I suppose not."

Opening the compartment and finding the small, backpack-style travel bags that Katrine had packed for Ella and herself, Lance began to set them over his shoulders. "I'm going to need your help with something, Ella. I'm going to make you a temporary member of the Voltron Force. Do you understand what that means?"

Ella squealed happily. "I'll get to go for a ride in one of the Lions?"

Lance cringed at that thought, not because he couldn't handle Ella in the cockpit with him but because he feared the Lions might not ever awaken again. "Not exactly. I need you to listen to a few commands I need to give. Can I trust you to be a good teammate?"

Ella sighed loudly. "I can be quiet."

Lance shook his head and gave her a reassuring smile. "No one said you have to be quiet, but I will need you to be sneaky."

Her face beamed with excitement as she nodded.

"I also will need you to play hide and seek. See, there's this big lady named Nanny waiting outside. She doesn't like it when the princess leaves the castle, and she'll be angry that the princess had been away for so long. But, your momma needs the princess' help right now."

"Because Momma is helping Keith."

"That's right," Lance acknowledged as he moved about the cabin making sure they didn't leave anything behind.

Ella stuck to Lance's heels now. "Voltron needs him, and it's not nice if that lady is being mean."

"You're very smart," Lance said taking her small hand in his again. "Do you know what a code phrase means?"

"Uh-huh," she nodded. "Momma and I have one in case I'm ever in trouble."

"Good, you're going to be a big help to your momma, Keith, and even the princess."

Walking toward the exit, Lance detailed his plans to Ella, making sure she understood completely what she would be doing. It was the only chance they would have to keep Nanny and even Coran distanced from Allura for just that little while longer. Keith was finally coming back to them, and he was not about to lose that. The Voltron Force needed to mend and only Keith's presence could do that. Lance could never understand it, but the man just had a gift. After all, there was no one else in Galaxy Garrison who had wanted to put up with Lance or the rest of them.

Ella's hazel eyes sparkled now at the concept that she was actually being permitted to get into mischief. She held onto Lance's hand and moved down the ramp of the ship, her eyes wide with curiosity. She saw an older man and a big lady as well as a couple other strangers, most of them wearing the uniforms of the Castle of Lions guards.

"She looks mean," Ella said softly. "I don't like her."

"Just stick to the plan," he whispered. "Remember the code phrase."

Nanny wasted no time as she ran forward, and Coran paced himself at a comfortably slow pace behind her.

"Where is the princess?" Nanny demanded without any prelude.

"Nice to see you, too," Lance nodded. "I underestimated the welcoming committee's generosity and warmth."

"Scalawag," Nanny mumbled. "I didn't miss your antics."

Coran had caught up by now, and he intervened between Lance and Nanny. Apparently, the two of them would never have the ability to be anything more than thorns in each other's sides. However, Coran smiled beneath his mustache because the castle had been so lifeless without their ammunition of insults.

"Has Allura's arrival been delayed?" Coran asked.

"For the moment, yes," Lance responded. He threw a look at Nanny warning her to hold her tongue until he finished. "Doctor Katrine needs her assistance with Keith."

"The princess has no medical knowledge," Nanny chastised. "What kind of doctor did you bring with you that doesn't have her own assistants?"

Lance felt Ella's hand grasp his tighter. Even the poor kid knew an insult when she heard one. He made a point to bring Ella into the conversation now. "You owe young Ella here an apology. That doctor is her mother."

Nanny then realized that there was a little girl attached to Lance's hand and she changed her demeanor instantly. Kneeling down to the child, she smiled with embarrassment and turned on the charm that she always displayed around children. "I'm sorry if I sounded mean. The princess is very much like my own child, and I was very worried for her for a long time. I'm just upset that she has been in danger, and I want to see that she is safe with my own eyes."

Ella leaned closer to Lance but kept her eyes on the large lady before them. "Can we see the Lions now?"

Lance gave Ella's hand a light squeeze. "Now, what did I promise you? We need to get settled in first and after lunch I'll take you to see them. I'll even let you try on my helmet."

The little girl looked up to Lance and thought about the conversation they had before getting off the ship. Gently pulling her hand free, Ella stepped away from the grown ups and seemed to be exploring the landing platform, entirely uninterested in the discussion taking place around her. "Can I go for a walk? Grown up talk is boring."

"Don't wander too far," Lance said with a smile. "Your mother will kill me if I lose you."

"How is Keith?" Coran asked.

Lance tried not to watch Ella make her way quietly around the hangar as he responded to the advisor. "He's been stable. Dr. Katrine did a hell of a job with him. You can't even tell now that he was so close to death. In fact, just as we were landing, he started to show some faint signs of consciousness."

"Did that Drule scoundrel hurt Allura?" Nanny demanded.

"The princess is fine," Lance sighed. "I need to get Ella settled in…"

Suddenly, Lance broke off his words as he looked around the platform and noticed that Ella was gone. He changed his face into a look of panic.

"What is it?" Coran asked.

Lance dropped the bags and began to act frantic. "Where's Ella? Katrine will kill me if anything happens to that kid."

Nanny's face changed abruptly into that of concerned mother. "She could have wandered anywhere, and there are so many places that are dangerous for a child."

"We have to find her," Lance said shaking his head. "I'll start in here, but I can't look in every place of this castle alone."

"I think it would be a good way to make amends with the child," Coran offered to Nanny. "You might have frightened her."

Nanny's eyes caught a door that was open partially, and she started towards it. "I'll look in that communications room and then work my way into the castle. She couldn't have gotten far."

Coran had watched earlier as the child had cracked the door open but did not enter it. Instead, she curled herself into a ball in the middle of a stack of crates out on the landing platform. He looked at Lance as soon as Nanny was out of earshot. "That was cleverly played, Lance. Please have me contacted after Keith has been settled in with Dr. Gorma. I'd like to offer my support to Allura."

Lance stood there dumbly for a moment as he watched the older advisor silently and calmly walk back into the castle, and Lance began to wonder if he was losing his touch. He didn't think that he made it obvious that Ella's hiding was part of some preconceived plan.

Hearing a noise behind him, Lance's thoughts were broken as Katrine and Allura slowly wheeled Keith's bed off the transport, trying in vain to not lose any of the equipment that had been loaded onto a separate cart. Dr. Gorma raced to catch up with them and offered to push the cart with the equipment on it so that the two women could concentrate on keeping the bed stable. Lance looked to Keith and saw his eyes stare up at the sky for a number of seconds before his lids closed again. Then, he heard Nanny calling for Ella with a concern she rarely exhibited, and in that moment, Lance felt like he was finally home again.


	30. Chapter 30

_Author's Notes_: Thanks again for remaining so very patient!! I know it's tough, but sometimes the story just doesn't come to me as easily as I would prefer.

For everyone who has taken the time to leave me reviews and comments, I thank you with all my appreciation! I believe many of you will find that this is the chapter you have been awaiting (sound familiar to my _Knight of Honor_ followers??), and I hope it meets with your expectations. Enjoy!

As always…

I hope I continue to do justice to the characters and the series of _Voltron_, and I ask for no flames, please. However, I will accept constructive criticism in order to develop further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I own nothing of WEP or Voltron, but my imagination lays claim to the origin story that I have created for Voltron. Also, the citizens of Fedmar and their respective leader are mine. In short, I make no money, and I only write about what I enjoy.

Chapter 30 – Dark Serenity

The silence was endless, stretching out beyond all sense of sight, sound, and touch, but it was calming and comforting despite its infinity. There was warmth in the surrounding darkness, the kind of warmth not from a blanket but from complete inner peace and comfort. He liked how he was left alone in it to rest without interruption and without burden. He found it to be a wonderful sensation, this floating in nothing, this ability to allow his tiredness that he felt to just take him away from everything.

This continuous exhaustion was all he knew, the need to lay in the abyss and bathe in the dark comfort of silence. Time didn't exist here, and time didn't matter. Movement didn't mean anything, either. The effort it would require for him to even lift a finger was far too much, and to even think of moving a hand was entirely out of the question. It was draining him just to comprehend movement; it was easier to just be. The silence of the darkness sheltered his ears from any kind of hum or explosion, and sound didn't exist in this eerily protective environment. He knew that such confinement would make others insane, but there was a solace in the serenity of this place, like some kind of rest that he never knew he needed.

He didn't know why this black silence was so soothing, so appealing. He couldn't remember anything beyond the comfort that wrapped around him and made every moment seem perfect and tranquil. The warmth here was no different than the sun shining down upon him on a perfect day, and sleep here came easily. There were no distractions and no worries…just rest.

A gentle sound slipped into his comforting silence, and although it was distant, he didn't like how it banged around the darkness, echoing like a ringing bell in his head. He wanted to yell at the noise to be silent, to give him back his peace. However, it came through once again but not as abrupt. This time it was more careful, less of a crash and more like a wave ebbing toward him.

He thought he liked this sound, and the wave it seemed to produce motivated him into investigating. But, the tide had faded as quickly as it started, and the wave had already gone back out to whatever dark ocean the abyss around him contained. And, just like the tide leaving, his reason for needing to follow the sound eluded him. Now, the silent peace beckoned him to its comforts again, and he settled back into that warmth, that peaceful comfort. Perhaps the sounds he heard were merely those of his imagination, the memory of the ocean when he had experienced its beauty once in that other life that he no longer remembered.

Suddenly, a pinprick of light shot into his vision, and it seemed that something was determined to break him away from the comfort of his eternal blackness. That drop of light had been small, nearly insignificant, and if not for the endless darkness surrounding him, he would never have seen that tiny shard of a beacon. Again, he had the placid desire to break free of the comfort, but he could think of no reason why he should leave such a calm existence and instead he settled back inside his cocoon of endless rest.

This time when the sound came again, he thought he heard a beautiful melody rather than a crash of noise. However, if there were words to accompany that resonance, he could not decipher what had been said. Still, the harmony of the gentle-pitched melody seemed so familiar, like a song he had heard but where the words and the title eluded him. Strangely, this vocal harmony made him curious, full of wonder as to what else could possibly be more enticing than this quiet rest.

Warmth that wasn't entirely soft pressed to his hand, brushing against his skin intimately, desperately, and there was something familiar about it. A moment of recall gave him the clarity that he knew this touch, this heat. Something deep inside him recognized the roughness amidst the petite and slender shape. The grasp to his hand was strong yet gentle, and his mind began running in circles to find something to help him remember. Deep inside him, he wanted to reach out to this softly gripping outsider, but like a word stuck on the tip of his tongue, any recall he had of this intimacy faded before he fully comprehended it. The slipping of memories made him aggravated to be so close to something that was familiar and comforting on the other side of this dark serenity.

Now that he could not put his memories together, the dark beckoned him back, and the warmth surrounded him, blanketing him in its comforts. He did not fight against it, knowing that the rest he craved would be found in this seducing abyss. All the distractions outside of the black serenity faded away again, and peace was clinging close to him, like a ripe fruit on a branch just out of reach. If he let go just a tiny bit more, he would snuggle back into the dark comfort and be spared the attacks on his senses.

Long, golden curls suddenly flashed before him, the color reminding him of the sun in its glory on a beautiful spring day. Ginger highlights blended in with the honey-yellow tresses, and they seemed to tickle against his face, brushing against his chin. He mentally reached out to touch the tresses, but they were forced aside by the darkness, as though the images he fought to remember were forbidden in this place of serenity.

A distant memory of perfume caressed his sense of smell as the golden curls dissolved away into the blackness, and he recognized that he had known this sweetly-tinted floral from another life, another place. Why such a random recollection would come to him, he had no idea, but he wanted to probe deeper into his memories to make himself bring forth why that particular smell had such meaning to him.

Then, the darkness erased that memory as well, and he was left alone in the black silence that had become his only shelter. He thought he heard himself growl in frustration for all these things that were so familiar, so known to him, and yet were never allowed to stay within his reach long enough for him to remember.

Annoyed now that his memories dared to try and attack him in his comfort, he decided to give up the battle and return to the slumber, knowing that he would be rewarded with rest, where no aggravations would exist in the black comfort and nothing would try to toy with his isolation and his peace.

_Keith._

And, like a shot to his chest, the darkness around him cracked, spidering before him. It was like looking at a glass windshield that had a rock thrown at it but had not broken, but behind that shattered curtain of black comfort were images, pictures of a life he once knew, a life where he once was an active participant.

Then, the darkness seemed to grow angry as though trying to mend itself, and it became a wounded animal thrashing about. It started a tidal wave of black waves, rolling over him, trying to drown him and stop him from breathing. He began desperately fighting for air, needing to see, to hear. The blackness was no longer comforting to him but was frightening and suffocating. It was trying to stop him from being free, from learning about the life he had left behind, the life he might still be able to live again. And, the blackness was trying to block all his memories of that woman, that female, who had found her way into his very soul and had awakened the memories that were of a life he had forgotten existed for him.

He suddenly needed to be free, to find this mysterious woman. He needed to know who owned those golden curls and had that melodic sound that had disturbed his peace. What kind of light would blind him so brightly in his darkness and deafen his ears from the comforting silence he had known for so long?

_No_! he wanted to scream as his memory of this mystifying female had brushed over him, fading again before he could comprehend it. He mentally clenched his fist and punched it toward those twisting cracks in the blackness. But his strike was weak, and it drained him of all his energy. The calming sleep beckoned again, whispering to him in a seductive tone to return to his peace and serenity.

He knew that if he gave into the rest the blackness offered, he would not drown, and he could appease the angry animal that had been so gentle in providing him his comfort earlier. If he turned away from the outside world, the dark serenity would make him safe again and return him to that existence where it was warm and inviting.

He calmed himself down and tried to let go of the image that had grazed him, and instead of looking for that vision, he listened to the temptation of the darkness and the seductive silence it offered. He knew once both he and the blackness settled down and became one again – a twisted kind of sentient being – he could return to the solitude and the quiet where he could rest.

Unexpectedly, with no hope of forewarning, the blackness split open before him, and he saw her face surrounded in light. It was a bright, painful radiance that shattered his eyes with agony. Slamming his eyes again, he realized that he had only seen her for a fraction of a second, but in that moment, he had seen her smooth, porcelain skin and her blue eyes that were full of kindness and love.

_Keith, I'm here,_ her voice told him.

_Who are you?_ he wondered. He wanted to know why this vision of seeming beauty was bringing him so much suffering and why she couldn't allow him be soothed back into the black serenity that could protect him and comfort him.

Then, as though he had awoken from some hazy and twisted dream, everything began to fall into place and his comprehension rolled like a runaway freight train, carrying his emotions and thoughts on a wild ride where he had nothing to keep him secure.

_Oh, shit!_ he yelled into the silence. _What happened to her? Had he left her for dead? Was he dead? Shit! What happened to him? Where was__…there was so much – too much to remember_. More thoughts suddenly flooded him. It was information overload, and it started dragging him into some current he could not fight against.

The darkness was gone now, the animal dead that had held him in its peaceful clutches for so long, and he was left to tumble down the waterfall of consciousness and unconsciousness. He was dropping, end over end, fearing that the landing would not be soft or survivable. He had a brief image of his body splattering onto the hard ground, and he would never be able to reunite with her or any of those he knew from his conscious life.

_Where are you dammit_! he wanted to scream. _I need you._

The light came to him again, blinding and painful. He slammed his eyes shut against it, instinctively seeking the darkness. There was no agony in the darkness, no rapid attack of thoughts. Nothing could hurt him in the silent abyss. There was no guilt, no remorse, just sleep and rest, but the black serenity was dead. The darkness had died, and he was left to tumble until either she would save him or he, too, would die.

_Stay with me_, her voice came again.

_Save me, please!_ he begged silently and desperately. _Oh God, how long had it been since I last touched her or looked into her eyes? What if she was dead?_ He feared now that she could not save him because she was not alive to do so, and he momentarily wanted the darkness again so that he could be protected from surviving without her.

_Fight it, Keith_, she told him in a voice that offered no room for debate.

_I'm tired of fighting_, he thought suddenly, the tumbling slowing down now, but leaving him extremely dizzy and drained. _I can't do it anymore. I'm exhausted. I just want to rest._

Her voice was growing frantic, scared. _We need you. I need you. Dammit! Everything we have done will be for nothing if you give up._

_Shit! I can't surrender_, he gasped, fighting to get himself upright again. He remembered now, everything, every last detail. They spoke words, binding words, words meant to unite them in ways that were considered forbidden and illegal. But, their bond, their connection, was real…and their hearts spoke even when their voices didn't. Her touch came to him now, the delicate but rough feel of her hands. She wasn't entirely soft, as she was a fighter, and had experienced more than her share of disfigurements. Her lips had been on his, soft and sweet, passionately accepting the kisses he gave her. They shared nights away from everyone, intimate moments that enhanced their love, and he swore he would never forget the warmth of her skin, the sound of her sigh, and the way she breathed. In her blue eyes he could always see the past, the present, and the future, and there was never any denying that he belonged there with her.

_God, I was such a fool for denying her for so long_, he thought in a brief second of calm. Then, he started tumbling again uncontrollably, and his desperation to find her began once more.

_Allura!_ he screamed, remembering her name so vividly, so passionately. It was a beautiful name for an equally beautiful woman, a woman who had chosen to be with him, despite everything that was against them.

_Allura! Where are you?_

He felt her hand locked to his, and he frantically clawed to hold onto hers. He was not going to fall back into that abyss, and he feared looking behind him to see what was once a place of comfort was now a hell that threatened to end his very existence.

_Allura!_ he felt himself nearly crying now, hot tears breaking into the corners of his eyes, his voice growing hoarse from his yelling. _Don't leave me._

Down to his last reckless moment of inspiration, he used all his strength to jump through the spidered glass, unconcerned about the cuts and lacerations that would await him. His voice came to him from deep inside, and he screamed her name, praying she would hear him this time because if she didn't, he would have nothing left to give, and he would fall into that hell that existed behind him.

"Al…l…ur…a…"

"Keith?" Allura took hold of his hand tighter and watched as his eyes opened once more, his breath coming in gasps as though he had fought demons and robeasts. She feared he would hyperventilate himself to death or at least unconsciousness again, and she couldn't bear to see him close his eyes any longer. He had spent the last hour and a half seeming to awaken and then give up, even after they secured him in a room in the Castle of Lions, and she couldn't bear to see the cycle of consciousness to unconsciousness happen again, not after he finally spoke this time.

Katrine immediately was there with a mask that provided more oxygen than the tubes near his nose could, allowing him to inhale deeply the purified air.

As Allura watched Keith's wheezing settle down, Katrine lessened the length of time that he needed to breathe it. Allura saw how he blinked hard against the dim lighting, trying to keep his eyes open and focus on her. She reached behind him to lower the lights even further, and saw his eyelids blink with less intensity.

After a few moments longer, Keith's eyelids stopped fluttering and he stared at the woman before him. He tried to reach his free hand to her face to feel for himself the evidence he needed to prove that he was no longer lost in the abyss.

Allura took his hand and pressed it to her cheek, allowing his fingers to touch the tears on her face. Her voice was joyful despite her crying. "You're back."

Keith inhaled softly, and grazed his fingertips over her lips. Every memory that he fought to remember while in his battle against the dark serenity now existed once again before him. Her lips were as soft as he remembered, and despite the calluses on her hands, they were still softer than his. Her blue eyes could tell him everything without her having to speak a single word. And, right now, he saw that things were bad…very bad.

Keith blinked heavily, aware of how Dr. Gorma was monitoring basic vital signs and a hazel-eyed, brown-haired woman moved about the complex machinery around him, explaining to Dr. Gorma her observations and her experiences in comatose patients.

Turning to Allura again, he felt his hand drop from her face, the exhaustion catching up with him.

"You're home on Arus," she told Keith, picking up his fallen hand and clutching both of his hands with a compassion she dared not reveal before Nanny.

And, with that fear in his wife's eyes, Keith knew they were still confined to sharing their love and their marriage in shadows. He had hoped to feel her lips on his, to have a moment of passionate reunion, a chance to know this awakening was real and not some fabrication that the dark serenity created to entice him to stay in the black isolation.

_Damn it_, Keith thought. He didn't survive a beating from Lotor just to remain in the shadows of their happiness, and he didn't break through an endless slumber to hide his affection for his wife. The goddamn Drule now knew he was married to Allura, and the time for hiding it from his friends and allies was long over. They would only be foolish to deny what their enemies knew, and it was time to make amends to the Voltron Force, the people of Arus, and the surrogate parents of the woman he loved.

"Allura?" he whispered, fighting to give himself strength.

Her blue eyes stayed connected to his, and her voice was soft. "Keith?"

Using every last bit of strength and motivation he had, Keith pulled Allura to him. As she fell forward, he concentrated his focus on connecting his lips to hers. He felt her hesitation as their lips brushed, but he forced himself to bring his hand to her face and kiss her with every last ounce of strength he had. Her hesitation melted away, and her hands came to his face, cupping his cheeks, as her passion broke free.

Keith pressed to her, refusing to give into his exhaustion just yet. He tangled his fingers into her hair, remembering the softness of the curls. He tasted her lips, savoring the sweetness of some unknown sustenance that remained there. He breathed in the medicinal scent of her hair, confused momentarily as to why it didn't have the usual flowery fragrance, but he dismissed it, knowing that it probably had to do with all the hours she spent in the hospital setting, making certain that he survived.

Then, the exhaustion he had pushed aside for so long had slammed into him, and his hand dropped from her face. He fell back against the pillows of his bed, their kiss abruptly broken apart.

Allura opened her eyes, trying to catch her breath, and she saw that Keith's were closed once again. He was breathing rhythmically, and there was a contented serenity to his features. She suddenly turned to the doctors, her fear that he had fallen into the coma again evident on her flustered face.

"He's just sleeping," Katrine assured. "He overdid himself, trying to remember and experience too much. It's not an uncommon reaction."

Allura nodded silently, knowing that there was nothing she could do to hide her reddened face. Dr. Gorma and Katrine had seen that kiss for what it was, and there was no squelching the passion in it, the utter need she and Keith had for each other. Neither of the doctors seemed to have any judgment against her or Keith, and she wasn't sure if it was because they thought Keith's reaction was part of his awakening or if it was what they knew existed between them.

Breathing quietly and watching Keith resting in tranquility, Allura just hoped that Nanny and Coran would be supportive for once with her. Keith had nearly died to protect her and Arus, and that should be the only reason they needed to accept him as her husband. She didn't know of any prince who would put himself in the line of fire so willingly. Keith's only obligation to her planet had been through orders from Galaxy Garrison, and she was certain that he could have requested a transfer at any time, but he didn't. He stayed to defend Arus as his choice – not his orders – and if that didn't represent an honorable man then Nanny and Coran would never understand what Arus or Allura truly needed.


	31. Chapter 31

_Author's Notes_: Thanks again for remaining so very patient. Real life had gotten quite distraught in the last couple months, and it sapped me of my inspiration. It's hard to think in the fantasy world when I'm short a paycheck and trying to figure out how to put food on the table for my family. In the meantime, I wanted to thank everyone who has offered me good luck for my situation.

With my most enthusiastic gratitude, I just wanted to thank everyone who has taken the time to leave me reviews and comments! I hope things will turn around for the better very soon and the story will get back into more regular updates.

As always…

I hope I continue to do justice to the characters and the series of _Voltron_, and I ask for no flames, please. However, I will accept constructive criticism in order to develop further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I own nothing of WEP or Voltron, but my imagination lays claim to the origin story that I have created for Voltron. Also, the citizens of Fedmar and their respective leader are mine. In short, I make no money, and I only write about what I enjoy.

Chapter 31 – Bridging the Chasm

Word of Keith's awakening had spread like wildfire throughout the Castle of Lions. It seemed that it only took a day or two for the news to fully extend to everyone who resided within the castle walls, and a figurative sigh of relief had been shared amongst all of Arus' citizens. It was the first time since the heinous attack on Voltron that anyone had dared to execute any sense of normalcy once more. There was relief that the Voltron Force was back together, even if they weren't entirely functional again. Hope for Arus' survival had brought with it a renewed sense of endurance, but until the Lions were able to fly through Arus' skies, and Voltron could step onto Arus' soil, the people maintained their cautious vigil, worrying about the next Drule invasion.

Hunk, on the other hand, had not joined in with the people's relief, and as he finished running the rag over his hands, he tossed it into the toolbox. Everyone on the Voltron Force had rotated through Keith's room in the course of the last two days, visiting him briefly but frequently. Hunk believed it was probably more to reassure themselves and see the proof with their own eyes that Keith was awake than to actually wish the man a speedy recovery. Hunk, however, had held off with his visitation. He was caught on the border between letting his commander get the necessary rest so that his body could recover and simply avoiding the man so that he would not be inclined to say or do something that he might regret. Anger was still fresh in Hunk's emotions for what he believed was an exclusion from the team and that sense of betrayal continued to hang heavily on him. Even two days after Keith had regained consciousness, Hunk realized that he still wasn't certain that he was ready to face the man who had betrayed his trust by not involving him in the changes that took place amongst his teammates.

Closing down the toolbox and setting the latch in place, Hunk turned to close down the music reader. Gone now were the loud guitars, heavy drums, and intense vocals as silence instantly filled the Lion's mechanical bay, and it reminded Hunk that he couldn't avoid facing the proverbial music forever. Pidge had reported that Keith was showing the normal progressions that were indicative of his body regaining his physical strength and that meant he would undoubtedly return to the Black Lion.

Rather than waiting until the day when Keith flew again, Hunk decided he had no choice but to get this confrontation over with right away. He just hoped he could restrain himself from doing anything rash. He had told no one that he was going to see Keith, and as he moved through the hallways towards the sick bay, he hoped no one would be insane enough to be with Keith at this hour of the night.

By normal time standards, it was just before midnight, and according to the reports he had heard, Keith had been awake and sleeping at all hours of the day and night anyway. According to what Pidge had told him from Dr. Katrine, the commander hadn't quite gotten his body's clock reset yet, and that could take a few more days.

Unrolling his shirtsleeves back into place as he finished his trek down the corridors to the sick bay, Hunk eventually came to the door to Keith's room. Cautiously, he knocked softly and when he heard nothing in reply, he stepped inside.

The room was dim, the lights adjusted to the night settings. Keith was sitting up in the bed sleeping soundly as though he fell asleep that way, and his body was resting at an angle seeming to be watching the door. Keith's eyes stayed closed as Hunk approached and the blankets were neatly wrapped around the commander, a sign that someone had taken great care to make him comfortable. Hunk could only guess that Allura had done so before she went to bed and that they were still keeping their relationship hidden from Nanny and Coran. Glancing at Keith again to break his thoughts away from the secret affair that had nearly destroyed the Voltron Force, Hunk realized that Keith was no longer in the standard hospital gown, but was wearing a short sleeved t-shirt, the color a light tan. Whatever he was wearing underneath the blanket, though, Hunk dared not speculate. If the commander was only wearing a shirt to appease his guests, then that was his business and Hunk wanted no part of observing Keith's sleeping habits.

Glancing over at the wheeled table that was positioned slightly off to the side of the bed, Hunk caught reports and a couple books from different genres strewn across it. One of the books was a sci-fi story about a fictional black ops squad. Another was a murder mystery novel, and the last one was an action thriller. Hunk wasn't surprised to see the novels pushed to the side and the reports laid out neatly onto the table. Nearly snorting at the sight of the reports, Hunk realized just how typical it was of his commander to not take a rest, even when his body desperately needed it. However, after a moment Hunk realized that the paperwork wasn't the testimonies of their battles or updated rules and regulations from Galaxy Garrison. Instead, it was roughly drawn schematics of the Black Lion, done in Keith's own handwriting.

Hunk quietly lifted one of the pages and looked it over, studying it like some kind of puzzle. Penciled lines and shapes were amateurishly made, and the heavy grit from constant erasing had thinned the paper in places, obvious proof that Keith was no artist. Yet, the sketches intrigued Hunk and as he looked at them closer, he saw what appeared to be a map into the heart of the Black Lion. Somewhere in the belly of the mechanical beast was a circular object that resembled an orb. Because Keith was no artist or architect, his perspectives didn't make sense, and the orb came across as the size of a Humvee. At least, Hunk thought he was looking at an orb inside the Black Lion. It was difficult to discern exactly what it was since Keith's drawings weren't very clear nor was his handwriting very neat. Even the notes were scribbled in a combination of English and some ancient-looking characters that were unfamiliar to Hunk.

Scratching his head, Hunk turned the drawing sideways and followed the image of the map from a different angle. He mentally broke down the images in his mind, like he would any schematic and slowly realized that he was looking at an inner compartment of the Black Lion, a space somewhere behind the Arusian shield upon the Lion's chest.

"Son of a…"

"I knew you'd see it," Keith said gently.

Startled, Hunk jumped at the sound of his commander's voice and instinctively lowered the drawing to his side. "How long have you been awake?"

"You mean coma awake or just now awake?" he asked, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. When Hunk made no sign of being in a witty mood, Keith decided to drop his attempt at humor and answered Hunk's question rationally. "Not long."

Moving to put the sketch back onto the table, Hunk told him, "Well, glad to see you're back, but I have stuff to handle. Just came to check on you, that's all."

With a strength that didn't seem likely for a man who had only days ago brushed death, Keith reached out his hand and grasped Hunk's wide wrist. "I've been waiting for you, actually."

Hunk shrugged it off and stepped back. "I wasn't in a hurry to come see you. The Lions needed my attention, and everyone else seemed to be more than enough guests for your liking."

"I know you're still angry," Keith answered and picked up the drawing. He set it before him on the bed and lowered his eyes to it, even though he wasn't looking at it. "And, it's why you've been avoiding me."

"You disregarded me as a teammate and a friend," Hunk grumbled.

"You're right, and I need to grow up."

That confused Hunk and he stopped short from his plan to barge out of the room.

Looking up to his friend, Keith stared hard at Hunk, his words honest. "I screwed up. I did things a leader shouldn't have, and you have every right to be angry with me."

"Then why the hell didn't you trust me?" Hunk asked, forcing his anger to settle long enough to hear an explanation.

"It was me I didn't trust," Keith answered. "I got selfish…paranoid. I found something wonderful with Allura, and the thought of being forced to end our relationship scared me in a way I had never felt before. I couldn't imagine how I would live without her, how I could ever so much as look at another woman again. Allura and I both knew we were in it too deep to walk away, not without scarring ourselves in some way. Over the course of time, the secret became so routine that I didn't even have to think about it anymore."

"Yet, Lotor found out before we did, and _we_ should have known first." Hunk's frustrated words were followed by a quick sigh to keep from feeling that rage again. It was something he felt every time he thought about being lied to on a daily basis by someone he thought of as a good friend.

"I don't disagree with you, Hunk," Keith told him. "But, I just have one question for you, and you don't have to answer it – just think about it. What if it was you in that dungeon and you had the knowledge of our relationship?"

Keith looked down to the sketch for a brief moment before continuing. "I would have died for her, not out of some sense of duty, but because it's what I felt I had to do to keep her and the rest of you safe. We, the Voltron Force, are connected far deeper than most pilots. It's the sacrifice we made when we took on this duty, and when Voltron connected to each of us, it strengthened that bond. But, I broke that bond."

Keith paused for a long moment, letting Hunk absorb everything he had said, everything he had rehearsed in his mind for the past two days. Taking a breath to give himself the strength he needed to forge on, he continued, "I'm the weak link in the Voltron Force. Strength in this circumstance has nothing to do with piloting skills and executing strategies in a split-second. It has to do with trust and our honesty towards each other."

Bringing his eyes up once more to Hunk, Keith's dark eyes were dead serious, truthful in a way Hunk had never seen before.

Keith refused to back down now from the shock he knew his words would give to his friend, but it had to be done. He had to take responsibility for making his choices and bringing the Voltron Force to such a state of disrepair, not to mention what it had done to Voltron. "I understand how my actions nearly destroyed us and put Voltron in a comatose state. I acted out of the context of what a leader is expected to be, and I now have no choice but to resign from the Voltron Force."

Hunk felt his world explode around him as the shockwave of Keith's words rolled over him repeatedly.

"I waited to tell you first," Keith finished. "You deserve that honor because you have been the most noble of us all. And, with that said, you get my recommendation for commander."

After a moment, Hunk shook his head but his anger was different. It was defensive and protective rather than aggressive. "You're a crazy bastard who's been pumped with too much medicine. Get your head clear."

"I thought about this for a long time," Keith explained. "Lance doesn't want it, and while he was in command he had no way to pull you back together. Pidge needs more experience in life before he can clearly make such decisions about a team. Allura doesn't need the extra burden right now. She has enough with Nanny and Coran…"

"So, now you're running away from your responsibility?" Hunk asked angrily. "You think offering me the commander position will make me forgive you?"

"No," Keith said, raising his voice slightly. "You don't ever have to forgive me if you don't want to, but I know where I was wrong. I should have resigned from command when I first kissed Allura."

Hunk shook his head and rubbed his face with his hands. Staring at his friend again, he took a step closer. "Dammit, Keith! Stop playing the noble hero for once."

"I am," Keith responded, keeping his voice relaxed and even. "I'm just a man who made mistakes, and it's time I atoned for them. Allura and I are going to talk with Coran and Nanny because the time for hiding is over. I've already put together a proposal for Dirin to train in the Yellow Lion. Arus needs a new leader anyway, and it will kill two birds with one stone. Nanny and Coran will have the leader they feel Arus needs with Dirin, and Allura can be free to pilot."

"You worked it all you, didn't you?" Hunk breathed, trying to not allow his frustration to surface again. "You even presented it with nice, pretty packaging, covered with ribbons and bows. Except your left out one important detail…"

Keith raised an eyebrow in curiosity, wondering what in his decisions could possibly have been overlooked.

"You," Hunk answered. "You get your dumbass back in the Black Lion. Not me, not Lance, and not some aristocratic pilot you recommended. You're here for a reason, and Voltron wants you here for a reason. Now, if you ever mention this conversation again, you'll find I rearrange faces and body parts a hell of a lot uglier than Lotor could ever hope to."

Keith couldn't help the smile that broke on his face, and after a moment he laughed deeply. Grabbing a hand to his side, he tried to calm down in order to make the aches subside. Breathing deeply, he found there was still laughter, but it wasn't his. He looked before him and saw Hunk scratching the back of his neck while chuckling at himself.

After a moment, Hunk shoved his hands in his pockets and stared down Keith again. "I hate you, really I do."

"Just say the word, Hunk, and I'll walk away from Voltron and the Black Lion."

"Never," Hunk said resolutely.

Before Keith could argue his case again, Hunk was gone, and the silence of the sick bay room closed in around him once more.

Keith turned to his drawings and knew that there was only one source that could possibly awaken Voltron. Once that source was used, it could never be used again, and another source would have to be offered up in its place.

_I understand what I have to do_, Alfor's voice said to the Voltron commander. _When we are ready, I will travel into Voltron and awaken his spirit. But, has it been decided who will take my place once their mortal life as ended?_

"Me," Keith answered without hesitation, continuing the conversation that he began with King Alfor late last night when he was alone in the room. As he expected, the former king returned to finish the discussion they began. If it wasn't for Keith's unplanned moments of rest and the rotation of visitors throughout the day, he was certain they would have finished their talk a lot sooner. However, the debate could not wait any longer, as they had to finalize their preparations in order to bring Voltron back before the Drule would attack Arus again.

_You do understand that you'll never be able to pass into the after-existence and join those you love most? I sacrificed my chance to be with so many others that I hold dear just to stay with Allura, and I knew one day I would give myself to Voltron just as many had before me. You can't make this decision lightly._

"I've decided," Keith said with assurance. "You and I will work on getting Voltron back into existence. After we get Voltron up and running again, I'll see to it that he and I make the arrangements so that my soul will stay here on Arus in case he needs awakening again at some point after I've died."

_You're a good man, Son_, Alfor acknowledged. _I just hope you don't have to make this sacrifice any sooner than is necessary. I want you and Allura to have a long life together, a fulfilled existence because you won't be able to be together after your body dies._

For a long moment, Keith felt his heart break at the thought of only being with Allura for the rest of his mortal existence, never being able pass through the life threshold to spend eternity with her. A moment later, he realized that he would never have the opportunity to find his parents somewhere in the afterlife either, and he wasn't sure which ache hurt more. Dropping his eyes to the drawings, he shook his head and knew that someone on the Voltron Force had to give up their eternal rest. Voltron had bonded with him first and that had to mean something in some way that only Voltron understood. Keith had decided then that he would do what it takes to make sure Arus was safe because this was his home now.

"I'll have no regrets," he said with finality.


	32. Chapter 32

_Author's Notes_: This chapter was a long time coming, as is the usual pace now with this story. I simply blame my want to write too many stories and that my imagination had grown stale in the Denubian Galaxy. Again, I assure everyone that I will finish this story, but time isn't always my own, and reality can be a selfish beast.

On a personal note, I am asking one last time anonymous reviewer, "Lori," that if you would like to e-mail me, please leave me your e-mail address "phonetically" (i.e., myemail (at) yahoo (dot) com) because this site does not recognize e-mail addresses in reviews.

As always…

I hope I continue to do justice to the characters and the series of _Voltron_, and I ask for no flames, please. However, I will accept constructive criticism in order to develop further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I own nothing of WEP or Voltron, but my imagination lays claim to the origin story that I have created for Voltron. Also, the citizens of Fedmar and their respective leader are mine. In short, I make no money, and I only write about what I enjoy.

**Chapter 32 – Tying the Ends**

Lance's blue helmet shifted back and forth, moving awkwardly while attached to the person that sat in front of the Red Lion's control panel. The protective head gear gave the impression that it would fall off the wearer's head at any moment, its wobbly maneuvers seeming to be the equivalent of a doll with a loose head.

Lance leaned back in the pilot's chair now, studying the way his helmet moved with a life all its own. It was rather comical, he mused, and he wondered just how much more it would wiggle about on Ella's head if she were really flying the Red Lion.

However, his thought was cut short, as movement on the ground outside the cockpit's viewport had caught his attention. Lance curiously watched Hunk moving quickly about the repair bay. His friend seemed to have some kind of insane plan, and Hunk gave the impression that he was determined, almost excited. Hunk had set himself before the Black Lion and scratched his chin in thought as though assessing something.

Wondering what Hunk was up to, Lance continued to watch as Hunk hurried away. His eyes followed the Yellow Lion's pilot as he set himself into the crane-like machine that they used to move the Lions around the bay.

Setting a cable around the Black Lion's neck, Hunk got out of the crane and secured the end of the cable. Then, he ran back into the machinery and started it up, lifting the Black Lion's head slowly so that the chest was no longer lying on the floor. Hunk had moved the Black Lion into a nearly sitting position, its front paws dangling loosely before it like some kind of broken beast.

Then, with an agility that seemed unlikely for the large man, Hunk climbed up towards the Black Lion's chest. His fingers moved about the Arusian crest as though looking for something, but he came up empty.

"I like that there are lots of buttons," a small voice said reaching tiny fingers to hover over the keys on the control board of the Red Lion.

Ella's voice had distracted Lance from watching Hunk, and he decided to turn his attention back to the small child on his lap. He had promised Ella a few days ago that he would take her into the Red Lion and let her wear his helmet after she had expertly distracted Nanny during Keith and Allura's return to Arus. Although the original reward for her instigations was to spend some time in the Red Lion later that day, he found he was giving Ella another chance to cash in on that deal yet again. So far in the past few days, this was her third trip into the mechanical beast, and it seemed she had some new illusion playing in her mind every time she sat in the pilot's seat. If it wasn't for the fact that Lance knew Voltron was just this side of dead, he would have thought the kid was experiencing the kinds of mind melds that his friends had talked about sharing with Voltron, the experiences Lance now regretted not allowing Voltron to have with him.

Trying not to dwell on his rejection of Voltron, Lance thought back to that day when they finally left _Mercy's Heart_ and returned to Arus, and he let his eyes drift again to the wobbling helmet attached to the child on his lap. Nanny had made no indication that she was impressed with the way Ella had pulled such a prank on her, and she made certain to give Katrine a verbal lesson, not only on child rearing but also on choosing a poor suitor.

Not entirely certain how he had done so, Lance had instantly memorized Katrine's rebuttal of words in that moment, playing them back in his mind to be certain that he had actually found the woman who wasn't afraid to stand up to Nanny. He let his mind wander back to that day in the lounge while Ella was sipping some milk and snacking on a couple cookies that Lance had found. Hunk and Pidge were lost to the repair bays, and Katrine had just joined them after a couple hours with Keith and his awakening.

Lance had barely enough time to greet Katrine before Nanny came storming in, pointing an accusing finger at Lance for his trouble making.

He tried to play stupid but it was obvious that Nanny had figured out his plan when no one came back to her to let her know that Ella had been found. Starting with Lance, she tore into him about child endangerment and how she did not appreciate being taken for a fool.

When Katrine tried to rationally explain the reason for the charade, Nanny then turned on her.

And, that was the point when Katrine had remained stoically calm during the governess' tirade, seeming to have slipped back into that surgeon's role she played when she needed to detach herself emotionally from the patient and their loved ones. However, Katrine was far from just rolling over and playing dead, even though upon first glance she may seem to have done so. Katrine resorted into the mode of the surgeon Lance had first met on _Mercy' Heart_. She took Nanny's attack gracefully, absorbing it into herself and then unleashing a calm eruption of facts that had the governess backpedaling for further arguments, only to come up flabbergasted and empty.

What Lance remembered so clearly was how Katrine spoke in a neutral tone, neither shouting nor backing down. Replaying her voice again his mind, Lance remembered word for word her calm rebuttal. "While I appreciate your concerns, please bear in mind that not only is my culture diverse from yours but so are my circumstances. I raise my daughter with only her best interests at heart, and if allowing her a moment or two to experience mischief brings a certain kind of light to her eyes, then that allows me one moment to see my husband alive in her once again. As for my choice in suitors, your lack of experience does not permit you to decide with whom one should be matched. I may have less years on my body, but I've experienced far more than I ever planned in that time."

And with those parting words, Katrine had led Ella back to their quarters where they had decided they wanted some peace and quiet for the remainder of the evening. Lance had taken the opportunity at that moment to go spend some time with Keith and had proudly retold the story to his recovering friend. Lance realized while he was retelling the events that he was admiring Katrine far beyond her skills as a surgeon and her role as his girlfriend and that he also was going to be certain that he kept himself in line around her because it was obvious that Katrine knew how to handle herself, something she did on a daily basis as part of being a single parent.

"I still think it must be hard," Ella's voice spoke now, "Too many buttons."

The girl's statements had broken Lance from his musings, as he had suddenly wondered if he would have to compete with Katrine's memories of Nikkus. She didn't talk about him much, only twice that Lance could recall: once the night they first kissed and then the day she had her confrontation with Nanny. It seemed to Lance that Katrine was more than well-adjusted to the loss of her husband, but there was that underlying devotion she would always have for him. Lance hoped he could be strong and not allow any of that nagging jealousy creep up that sometimes tried to surface. He rationed that it was no different than his devotion to his memories of his sister, Jenny.

Dropping his gaze down to watch the child pretending to push the buttons in her own synchronized way, Lance again knew that getting involved with Katrine was much more complicated than any relationship he had ever shared before. However, he also felt strangely content about the situation and he felt the smirk on his face while his eyes kept on Ella's little feet as they dangled off Lance's lap entirely unable to touch the pedals on the floor. He felt her heels accidentally knock into his shins and he allowed the smirk to grow into a smile at how she seemed frustrated and overwhelmed trying to pilot the unmoving Lion.

Lance now turned her sideways on his lap, trying to fix the helmet from its lopsided state upon her head. "Like I said before, piloting the Red Lion wasn't easy at first, but with time and practice I got better." Then, he pointed to a series of buttons on the control panel, showing her something he had not done before. "See these red ones? They make the Red Lion wake up."

Ella leaned towards the buttons and started to push on them, surprised when Lance didn't try to stop her from touching everything in the Lion. It seemed he didn't mind her trying to work the giant machine, and she thought it was odd that a grown-up wasn't trying to make her sit silently. Then, she understood why he was allowing her so much freedom. "How come it doesn't work?"

Lance decided there was no lying to the kid, and the more he was planning to be involved with her in every capacity, the more he should be honest from the start. "Remember when I said that Voltron was in a very bad battle? Well, we still can't seem to figure out how to make him wake up."

"Oh," she said sadly. Looking about the cockpit, she wondered out loud, "What will happen if he never wakes up?"

Again, Lance decided that being truthful would be more productive than trying to water down the facts. "I don't know. I guess I'll be unemployed."

Ella looked at him with a confused expression, and the helmet slipped down again, covering half her face. Lance couldn't help laughing at the sight of a befuddled, bobble-headed kid.

"Look," he said, taking his helmet off Ella and setting it on top of the control panel. "What I mean is that if we can't get Voltron fixed, Dirin…Prince Dirin will probably bring a military presence onto Arus to help protect the people. Then, Galaxy Garrison – my bosses -- will send me somewhere else."

Her eyes dropped for a moment before coming up again and looking about the cockpit. "Then Momma and I will have to go back home."

"Hey," Lance said giving Ella's hair a quick brushing with his fingers to settle the curly strands, "Nobody said anything about you and you mom leaving. You're worrying about things that might not happen. I know that Keith had come up with some new idea so let's just wait and see if that works, okay?"

Lance's comm. suddenly pinged, and he picked it up off the sideboard on the panel. "Lance here."

"_Did you forget?_" Pidge's voice replied.

"Forget what?"

"_Of course you did_," Pidge sighed. "_Hunk just got here, and you're the last one. We're waiting in the main conference room for you_."

Lance looked out the viewport wondering just when Hunk had left the repair dock, and he figured it had to have been when he was thinking about Katrine and if he'd have to compete with the memories she harbored for her dead husband. Looking at Ella, Lance spoke into his communicator, "Be there in a few."

"You're in trouble," she said wide-eyed, unable to believe that a grown-up could be punished.

"Not in trouble, just…casually late," he replied with a grin as he shut down the comlink and looked at Ella. "Come on, I need to get you back to your mother."

* * *

Lance entered the conference room with Ella in tow since he could not find Katrine anywhere in the medical ward. Looking at the occupants of the room, he saw that Keith was actually dressed in his red civilian clothes for the first time since before Lotor had captured him and Allura. The commander sat in one of the chairs around the table as though he was fully healed. Even though his recovery had been going well for the last few days, the internal injuries still needed more time to mend. Katrine had let him off bed rest, but he was still required to take it easy and lift no weight or strain himself in any way.

Allura sat to Keith's right, and her blue eyes shone with nervousness. The seat next to her was unoccupied, and Lance figured that was where they wanted him since the rest of the table was already seated. Coran would be on Lance's right and Hunk and Pidge were on Keith's left. Nanny had been strategically placed between Hunk and Coran.

What Lance found surprising was that Katrine and Dr. Gorma were involved in the meeting. However, they were sitting off to the side, observing Keith to be certain that whatever would happen in this conference would not aggravate his injuries.

"I think we're all finally here now," Keith said offering a sly grin to Lance.

Lance turned his attention to Katrine for a brief moment, confusion clear in his eyes. "So this is why I couldn't find you."

"I'm sorry. They called me in at the last moment."

"What about…?" Lance let his words drop off and pointed downward from above Ella so she couldn't see his gesture.

"The next room over is full of toys," Pidge said with a smile. "Hunk and me found some things we thought she would like."

Katrine smiled and showed Ella the door to the bright room. "Go on, sweetie. Momma will be there in a while."

After Ella got herself settled in the room, everyone took their seats again and their eyes came to Keith.

Keith sat back in the chair and assessed everyone in the room for a moment. "I came to realize that some things had happened recently that probably could have been prevented. I'm not one who puts my personal life out on public display, but there comes a time when withholding information just causes more problems than what it's worth."

Seeming to react as one, the others in the Voltron Force held their breath and swallowed hard, expecting Keith to finally divulge to Nanny and Coran his relationship with Allura.

"With that said," Keith continued, "I want to discuss Voltron before anything else."

Rolling out the drawings that Hunk had seen the night before, he studied his hasty artwork. "We can restore Voltron's spirit."

"How?" Pidge asked.

"I've been having conversations with King Alfor," Keith responded, aware of how Coran nodded his head once in acknowledgment as though his suspicions were confirmed.

"My dear commander," Nanny laughed, "I believe your injuries have gotten the better of you."

"_You need to put your trust in more than you realize, Governess_," Alfor chided with a hint of humor in his voice.

Nanny gasped in near-horror as the image of her former king materialized in the conference room, stepping soundlessly around the table.

Lance passed his eyes over to Katrine and watched her briefly as she witnessed the magic of the Castle of Lions and how she failed miserably at trying to find the scientific reasoning for the phenomenon of the ghostly image as her eyes followed the apparition of King Alfor.

"This is a very nasty trick," Nanny sneered, her eyes coming to land on Lance, still begrudging him for making a fool of her days earlier.

"No, it isn't," Coran replied. "Alfor has been by my side for a long time, guiding my decisions and helping me understand when I would normally have not taken the time to do so. Voltron has left his mark upon Arus in ways we are still trying to comprehend."

"_And, that is where my presence continues to come into play_," Alfor explained. "_Voltron had given Keith a few very vivid images of his past while they were in their mental connections. Before Voltron was severed by Haggar's magic, Voltron trusted Keith enough to show him how he can be restored using my spirit to awaken the spirit that resides within his heart_."

"However," Keith continued, "Once King Alfor enters Voltron's heart, he will reside there for eternity. Then, it is up to one of us to take King Alfor's place and remain a spirit, bonded to the Castle of Lions until such a time when we may need to awaken Voltron in the future. It's a cycle of sacrifice that the ancient mages created and one that offers no pathway to the afterlife."

"Father…?" Allura asked staring at the apparition that was in the likeness of the man she remembered from her childhood.

"_Yes, Allura_," he answered, "_It means I will never see your mother again and I will not be able to see you when your time comes to pass on_."

"Why would the ancient mages enforce such a sacrifice on those most loyal to Voltron?" she now asked.

"It's a safeguard," Keith explained. "It was a way to prevent the rival mages from gaining control. Only those who were willing to commit themselves without selfishness to Voltron's preservation went through the process."

"Then, who will take my father's place?" Allura asked as her eyes refused to relent from Keith, knowing that he had already committed himself to the task.

"That's why I called everyone together," he started. "I can't keep withholding my decisions from my friends, my family. I had decided that…"

"I will take Alfor's position," Coran said firmly and stared hard at both Keith and Allura as their eyes came to him in surprise.

Alfor's voice grew quiet, concerned. "_Old friend, are you certain? You will be enslaved to these castle walls until your time to revive Voltron arises…if it ever does again_."

Coran smiled with softness at the Voltron Force. Then, his eyes settled on Keith and Allura, his words narrowing down for them. "These pilots will need guidance, someone who knows them well and can be a voice in the background. They will need someone to be their source of advice as well as remain their permanent ally."

Keith swallowed hard, picking up on Coran's hidden meanings. He looked to Allura and grasped her hand gently, remembering how Lance told him earlier that Katrine did not bend under Nanny. It was the encouragement he needed to know that they could stand together firmly and make their case maturely to let Nanny see that they were no longer children. Katrine's ability to hold her own against Nanny was one of the reasons he had called her specifically into the meeting. Although he did not tell her, Keith had decided he wanted Katrine with him for a visual reminder that he could win this battle, just as she had. "I can't hide this any longer, and it's the other reason I called us all together."

Allura took a steady breath and brought her eyes to her surrogate parents before setting them on her father's image.

"_I already know, Allura_," he told her with an approving smile. "_My blessing was long ago given, and Coran has been ever faithful to your secret_."

"Blessing? Secret?" Nanny asked, her voice growing cold. As her eyes came to bear on the way Allura's fingers were intertwined with Keith's, she felt a chill in her chest as though she had failed in her upbringing of the princess. "A commoner? Have I taught you nothing?"

"You taught her fear," Coran said calmly, finally ready to stand beside Allura and Keith as he should have done months ago. "Do you not even see how they look at each other? Are you so blinded by titles and statuses that you can't even look to see the nobility that is right in front of you?"

Keith brought his eyes to Nanny. "I'm in love with Allura. I always have been. We married in a commoner's ceremony a few weeks ago."

"Commoner?" Nanny sputtered. "Do you realize that Allura has just forfeited her title and her status? Arus is without a ruler now because of your selfish wants."

"_No_," Alfor said firmly. "_Arus has a ruler. He just doesn't know it yet_."

That brought a series of confused expressions from around the table. Each of the Voltron Force looked to each other and then to Keith as though he was due to become king.

"_There is no one wiser or more experienced. He spent years advising the old monarchy and years aiding a rebellion against the Drule under this monarchy. I would declare him more qualified than I ever had been. If he would be willing to take a title of 'premier,' I will be honored to have Coran as my successor, not under a kingdom but under an advisory council – a council that consists of you in the Voltron Force._"

"This is the most preposterous, and ridiculous display of monarchial abuse I have ever witnessed!" Nanny yelled. "I was Allura's loyal guardian, teaching her and molding her into a woman who would rule this planet with compassion and pride. How could you take all my years of training and just allow it to be thrown away? We all know that if she continues in the life of a pilot, she will die long before her due…"

"Nanny, please," Allura said sternly, finally able to feel the confidence that she had lacked for so long to stand up to her guardian. Between her friends and her husband beside her, the presence of her father, and now Coran's support, she knew that she had nothing to lose. "That is quite enough. I had abided by your beliefs and your firmly-given compassion since I was a child, but there comes a time when a person needs to be seen as an adult, not a child who continues to need raising. I have done all I could for my planet and my people, but I had done nothing for myself because you led me to believe that I was never allowed to know happiness. Keith showed me that I can be loved and happy and be more than just a political symbol. Why can't you accept that? Why must I be the perfect prize for men who don't care about me or our planet?"

"_I had hoped that the disagreements you had both shared throughout the years were nothing serious and it would be outgrown at some point_," Alflor now said with regret. "_However, I can see how wrong I was. I thought that Allura would learn ways to use your discouragements as a way to think unconventionally, but all you have done was pin her down and hold her back. These men on the Voltron Force have done more for her confidence in the last few months than I could have ever hoped. With Arus no longer in need of a princess and Alllura no longer a child, I wish to take the opportunity to dismiss you from your governing duties of my daughter. I would prefer you to take on a new role now, something that would eliminate your unwanted interference in Allura's life. Our planet harbors far too many orphaned children. Those children will need guidance, some gentle and others a firmer hand. I believe you will achieve miracles with them by making them into the next generation of proud citizens. You can teach them well, by educating them in our traditions, reminding them of the way of our past, and allowing them the growth to develop new traditions as our future takes shape before us_."

Nanny shook her head, seeming lost and distracted. "I never meant Allura any harm. I only wanted what was best for her."

Coran put a reassuring hand on her shoulder and smiled kindly. "We were both wrong to have suffocated Allura. She now has what is best for her, and we need to work on what is best for Arus."

"My baby is all grown up," Nanny sniffed with a small smile.

"Just think of all the babies and kids you'll have to take care of now," Pidge winked.

Nanny raised her head with that usual disgruntled frown. "Yes, and teenagers like you need to finish your studies. I expect you to join the other children once I set up my lessons."

Pidge suddenly shrank into the seat as though trying not to be seen.

"Had to open your big mouth, did you?" Hunk laughed.

"And, you," she complained. "You encourage that boy shamefully. None of you exhibit any kind of discipline or manners."

"Hey, I resemble that remark," Lance laughed with a wink.

"And, you!" Nanny pointed at Lance, unable to let the opportunity slip by to jab her mental knife further into his side. "Don't you dare influence that little girl any more than you already have. You'll just teach her to be another hooligan."

Lance laughed again quickly. "I doubt that, Nanny. Have you met her mother?"

"Let's not do this again, Lance. Please," Katrine said tiredly, shaking her head in her hand as though embarrassed by him at times.

Coran cleared his throat emphatically in order to get everyone's attention back on him and the matter of Voltron. He brought his eyes to Keith and nodded with approval for him to continue. "Commander, it appears that the personal matters have now been addressed and we can proceed with discussing how to awaken Voltron."

Keith leaned over the drawings once again. "King Alfor needs to enter through the crest on the Black Lion's chest. Hunk couldn't find any way to open it so it's my guess that it had been sealed after the Lions were originally separated and were renovated to contain cockpits in the heads rather than one pilot in the chest."

"_There would be no opening_," Alfor agreed. "_Magic does not work through physical means, and I believe I already know how I will be able to pass through the Black Lion's chest shield. Meet me in the repair bay later this evening, and Voltron will rise again. I promise you this_."


End file.
